She stared at him, scanned his face while he searched her eyes, looking for the smallest hint she wanted him to stop. Her chest heaved as she sat up fully, driving her tight nipples upward, the pretty pink buds making his mouth water.
Still, he waited, forcing his body to remain in check, keeping his impatience in check.
But Martine took his hands and placed them on her breasts, as though she were giving him the final permission he needed to touch her, and then she closed her eyes, her tongue slipping out of her mouth to wet her lips.
His cock jerked in response to the picture she made, making him husk out a low moan at the silk of her skin, the heat of it.
She gripped his wrists tight, hissing as he gently pinched her nipples, turning them into tight, hard points. Lowering them to his mouth, she gasped when he pushed them together and lashed each bud before drawing them between his teeth and nipping them.
Her hips rolled as she pressed her breasts deeper into his mouth, a sigh escaping her lips. He sipped at the rigid buds until she fell against him, reaching to clutch handfuls of his hair, whispering words he couldn’t make out.
His first instinct was to roll her to her back and drive into her until she screamed—it was always his first instinct. Yet, he wanted more. He wanted to discover what made Martine tick, what wrought those breathy sighs from her, what made her writhe in passion.
The overwhelming need to slip between her thighs became an urgent, aching must. He was on fire, his cock hard and pulsing, but he needed to taste her first, to slip his tongue between her folds.
Now.
He rolled her to her back, kissing her breasts once more before leaving them, smiling against her belly when she groaned a protest, Derrick trailed kisses along her ribs, down over the swell of her abdomen before parting her thighs.
His chest tightened at the sight of her, unexpectedly shaved smooth, and he moaned his approval, leaning forward, inhaling her scent, running his tongue along her creamy inner thigh.
Her impatience grew, judging from the bucking of her hips and the insistent hand she placed on his head, making him linger longer at the crease where her thigh met her hip. As Martine’s chest rose and fell, the peaks of her nipples lifting into his line of vision, he spread her swollen flesh, letting the wetness seep into the pads of his fingers.
Martine cried out at his touch, her body shivering against him. Rising up on her heels, she strained toward his fingers.
When his tongue slipped inside her for the first time, Derrick’s eyes rolled to the back of his head. His cock pulsed, white-hot and needy as he took a long swipe, flattening his tongue against the swell of flesh, savoring her essence.
Martine’s pussy was nirvana, salty/sweet perfection, and as his lips explored her, she rocked against them, her breath coming in short pants. Circling her clit, Derrick suckled it, stroked it, teased it before slipping a finger inside her.
The easy rhythm he’d begun increased, matching his finger’s strokes to that of his tongue, savoring the tight pull as she contracted around the digit.
And still, he grew greedier, hot spears of agonizing need tearing at him, driving him to taste as much of her wet flesh as he could. The sounds of her heavy panting hitched, released, caught, let go again until her hands gripped his hair, clutching it in her fists.
Martine lifted her hips, her heels digging into the mattress as she cried out, hoarse and raspy, the air thick with the tangible smell of her release as he drove his finger into her and licked her clit.
When she sank back into the bed, Derrick stroked her thighs, soothing her, learning the feel of her skin beneath his palm, listening for her breathing to slow before he inched his way back upward, dropping kisses on her belly, along her ribs, making his way to her mouth.
Her delicious mouth parted when Derrick nibbled her silky lower lip. Her hands kneaded his shoulders, wound over his back, moving down along his spine, cupping his ass.
She wrapped her long legs around him, whispering words that again he couldn’t quite make out, they were so muted and indistinct. She coaxed him to his back, laying her palms flat on his chest. She pinched his nipples, drawing her hands over his skin until she was between his legs.
It took everything he had in him to remain still, to let her explore the way he had. Soft lips grazed his belly, tiny flicks of her tongue wound their way to his cock.
He was dizzy with expectation as she neared his shaft, his mouth dry, his senses on overload. But he forced himself to open his eyes, to watch her take him in her mouth. His chest tightened when she licked her lips, anticipating the slick, hot glide of tongue over flesh. His heart sped up, racing in time with the electricity sparking through his veins in hot jolts.
Martine let her hair graze his cock, draping it over the rigid flesh as she lingered, her hot breath caressing him.