I stopped kissing her and stilled her hand. Gritting my teeth, I thought about doing two hundred squats. I wanted her to beg—because the dirty words from her sweet mouth, in her sweet voice were maddening and sexy as fuck—but I was quickly losing control.
When I was certain crisis had been averted, I cleared my throat and straightened from the floor, on my knees before her, discarding my towel as I moved. Her fingers immediately encircled my length and she knelt as well.
“Please.” She stretched to place a hungry, biting kiss on my neck, her breasts brushing my chest.
I bowed away from her touch and turned her around, thoughts of two hundred squats not far from my mind as I cupped her bottom and whispered in her ear, “And?”
She faltered, glancing over her shoulder at me with wide eyes. “A-and?”
I smoothed my fingers from her hip to her pussy and stroked, growling when I found her still wet from my earlier efforts and her arousal. Her breath hitched and she pressed her back against my chest, widened her legs. My touch was a light caress on the sensitive flesh. I savored the slick, swollen feel of her. When I licked my lips I tasted her there.
“Tell me what you want me to do.” I whispered rather than spoke, for no reason I could discern. “And beg me to do it.”
“Please,” she panted, chasing my mouth.
I leaned away, placing my hand on her back and guiding her forward until she was on her hands and knees.
“Please what?”
Her body tense, a straining, beautiful, aching thing. She pressed back, rubbing her bottom against my groin.
“Please fuck me already.”
Reaching for the condom on the side table, I fisted myself as I rolled it on, barely resisting the urge to thrust forward, and placed my other hand on her hip, holding her in place.
Fuck. Lucy wet. Hot. Wanting me. Wait. Control yourself. Control.
And I did. I controlled my body and my voice, asking, “Shall I take you now?”
“God, yes.” Lucy arched her back and spread her legs wider, offering herself and shooting daggers at me over her shoulder. “You’re dirty talk is great, Sean. But seriously, can you just get a move on?”
I grinned at her, my fingers flexing on her hip. “You’re hungry?”
“Starving.” Her eyes narrowed.
“You’re sure?” I teased her entrance with the head of my cock.
“Stop the chit-chat, Cassidy. Put the penis in the vagina and let’s get this dinner train rolling.”
I barked a laugh and without further discussion, I gripped her hips and thrust forward, sliding into her slick warmth. She gasped, pushing backward, tossing her rainbow hair to one side.
I rocked within her, keeping my movements slow and deliberate, partly to prolong the moment and partly because I suspected Lucy preferred a soft touch.
However, to my surprise, after several moments, her hips rocked restlessly, as though searching. A grunt of dissatisfaction met my ears just before she ordered, “Harder. Faster. Dirtier.”
“Pardon?”
She wiggled her bottom. “I said harder. Fuck me harder. Pull my hair. Slap my arse. Touch my clit. Do something.”
Sparks fired at the base of my spine at her words. I reached around, finding her clit and traced it. Bending forward, I bit her back and side, thrusting faster.
Soon the sounds of sex, primitive mating, the rough slapping of skin, paired with her whimpering moans, filled the room. We were both covered in a sheen of sweat. I was mesmerized by the sight of her: the expanse of soft, damp skin, the round curve of her perfect backside.
“Say something now,” she begged, pulling me from my meditation on her body. “Tell me I’ve been bad.”
“You’ve been very bad.” I tapped her clit, keeping the touch there light while I pounded into her. “I’ll have to punish you.”
She moaned. “What will you do?”
I hesitated, having not thought that far ahead and not feeling particularly creative, trying to keep my orgasm at bay while feeding hers.
“I’ll make you strip for me,” I blurted a secret desire, and was rewarded with another moan.
“Yes . . .”
“And I’ll touch you, however I please.”
“Fuck, yesss . . .”
“Then you’ll kneel in front of me, and suck my cock.”
“Oh God.”
“And touch yourself.”
Lucy pushed back, her toes pointing, legs flexing, hips rolling with jerky movements. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
And I felt it. I felt her come while buried inside her sweet, perfect body. Elation was eclipsed only by the wildness of my own need. Three more quick thrusts had me seeing stars and calling her name and making all nature of promises as her body clenched in spasm around me.
It was an unreal, potent pleasure. As I came down from the high, my face pressed to her back between her shoulder blades, I couldn’t help thinking about the next time I would get my fix.
Lucy Fitzpatrick was my drug of choice, and has quickly become a necessity. I had no desire to contemplate rehab.
***
“You smell good,” she said, gifting me a warm, lazy smile.
She was warm—or was I warm?—and we were laying together on the bed, liberally touching each other’s bodies.