“With you I am,” he said with a laugh. “With you I’m….I’m…” We stopped moving and his hands coasted up my waist to cup my face. He kissed me, his lips pressed to mine, hot and soft—almost reverent, before he deepened the kiss and lifted me, holding me tight against him as he walked up the few steps to the dining table in the room behind us. He sat me on the table, and I spread my knees, pulling him to me, wrapping my legs around him, caging him to me. His hands stroked lower, over my thighs and down the backs of my knees. I shivered and he broke the kiss, then stepped back, lifted my ankle and slid the shoe from my foot.
“So this is really happening,” I said, breathless and wide-eyed. “This is really happening now.”
“This is really happening now.” He nodded, his blue eyes a dangerous shade of sapphire. “Finally,” he whispered, his hands finding my other foot and removing the shoe. He dropped them both to the floor and then slid his hands up my thighs again, searching for the strap of my garters.
My hands trailed along the hem of my dress and curled around the edge, pulling it up, exposing the bare skin of my thigh. I lifted my gaze to his and he held it fast with his own. His fingers searched blindly for the clasp, found it, and popped it open, a smirk twitching at the corner of his lips as he did so. His fingers snuck under the lace band of the stocking and peeled it down, over my knee, my calf, until it slipped off my toes, leaving only the memory of spidery silk on my skin. He did the same with the other, then snaked his hands up under my dress. His eyes watched mine as he moved, fingers feathering over the sensitive skin of my inner thighs. I gasped and leaned into him, then pushed his hands away.
“My turn,” I said, rising to my knees. I steadied myself, hands on his shoulders and smiled. “I want to unwrap you, too.”
“By all means.” He set his hands at my waist and pulled me into him.
I pressed soft kisses along his jaw as I unbuttoned his shirt and spread it open, down over his shoulders, to his forearms.
“God, you’re beautiful,” I said, admiring his body as he took over for me, removing the shirt completely and throwing it to the side.
“I’m glad you think so.”
“I do,” I breathed. “I really really think so.” My hands ghosted over his chest, exploring, my fingers tingling at the contact. It was thrilling, his body so warm and hard under my touch. He watched me, inhaling sharply as my hands lowered to his abdomen.
“Uh-uh,” He captured my wrists and threw my arms around his neck. “My turn again,” he said, and sweeping my hair away from my nape, he tugged at the zipper of my dress and pulled it down.
He slipped the straps off of my shoulders and the bodice fell free, gathering at my waist. Thunder crashed outside, and I gasped as cool air hit my skin, my nipples hardening under the thin fabric of my bra. His hands cupped my breasts as mine found his waistband. I kissed him, hard and deep, unbuckled his belt, and whipped the leather from its loops with a crack, then sent the belt flying across the room.
His eyes darted to where his belt had flown, and he smiled at me, a menacing look that sent a flood of wetness to my core. He crushed me to him then, his tongue punishing my mouth, as my hands stroked over his hips, finding the hard length of him straining behind the fabric of his trousers. I slipped my hand inside, my fingers curling around his bare skin. He groaned against my lips.
“I want you in my mouth,” I said, and he groaned again. I pushed his trousers down, and watched as he removed them fully, kicking them off his bare feet and away. I licked my lips as his cock sprang free, thick and hot and jutting lewdly. I lowered myself to my hands and knees and kissed the blunt head, then flattened my tongue along the base and licked, root to tip, one long, hot, wet swipe before I sucked him into my mouth. His hands flew up, one tangling in my hair as the other gripped my jaw, tilting me so that he could see my face. I glanced up at him and smiled around his cock, swirled my tongue violently over the tip and then hollowed my cheeks on one hard pull before releasing him with a wet pop.
“Jesus Christ,” he growled.
“I haven’t begun to court you,” I said. I winked and flipped over onto my back, my head hanging off of the table. I grasped his ass and pulled him to me, fisting his cock to my lips. I guided his movements with my hands, back and forth, urging him to fuck my mouth as I sucked him inside.
He leaned over me, his hands braced against the table, hips thrusting slowly, slipping the engorged head of his cock over the wet skin of my lips, then pushing inside, to slide over my tongue, long, deep strokes, then back out again.
His hands moved over my arms and pushed the lace of my bra away roughly, my swollen breasts springing free, and he groped them, kneading my flesh with eager fingers, his hips still thrusting into my mouth.