"Just fuck me," she says. "Fuck me now, Luke."
I turn her around, the way she told me she wanted it, reaching for her hands and placing them on the counter while I trail mine over her arms and down her back, until I reach her hips. "This is a gorgeous ass," I tell her, teasing her with my fingers until she’s moaning my name softly again.
When I pull her hips toward me, guiding my cock inside her, she exhales, making this long sound under her breath like this is everything she’s been waiting for. I fuck her, slowly at first, with long languid strokes, almost afraid I'm going to break her if I fuck her the way I want to. But then she encourages me when I grab the length of her hair, twisting it around my hand as I drive deeply into her. "Like that," she says, whimpering. "Yes.”
"Is that what you like?" I whisper, thrusting inside her. "This is what you've been wanting?"
"Yes," she moans. "Like that. Exactly like that."
I thrust deeply inside her until my balls are pressed up against her *, my hands firmly on her breasts, stroking her nipples. I order her to touch her clit, and she braces herself on the counter with one hand as she reaches between her legs, stroking herself, and I know she wants to come. I know she wants to, but I’m selfish and I want to stay inside her. I can’t help it.
"Oh my God, Luke," she moans.
"This is what you wanted?" I ask, fucking her harder. "I've been cooking dinner for you and you've been thinking about me bending you over in your own kitchen and taking you from behind?"
"Yes," she gasps. "Yes, yes."
I slap her ass cheek, listening to the crack against her flesh. "This * is so tight," I say. "So fucking tight and unsatisfied. Until now."
"Shit, Luke," she says. Her muscles clench down around my cock, but I'm not ready for her to come. I want her to hold off. I want to deny her. I want to fuck her until she's crying, begging for sweet release.
This is not the kind of sex I have, not with the boring-as-hell college chicks I fuck, the ones content to lie on their backs or bounce on top of my cock, oohing and ahhing because they think it’s sexy. Autumn is sexy. She’s bent over, struggling to hang on to her last shred of composure, struggling to not come completely undone, her * swollen around me, and I fucking love it. I can’t get enough of it.
"Do not fucking come," I say, my voice gruff. "Do you understand me? You don't come until I say you can come."
"Oh God," she says, her tone ragged. "I can't. I don't know if I can wait."
Reaching up, I pinch her nipple between my fingers, causing her to cry out, a mixture of a yelp and a moan. "You are going to wait," I tell her, my tone firm.
My voice is a hell of a lot firmer than it should be for someone who has his cock buried up to the hilt in the sweetest * he's ever felt, someone who's absolutely on the verge of coming and can barely hold back.
"Yes," she says, her hand moving more quickly between her legs as I fuck her deeply. "Please."
That word. Please.
"Please, what?" I ask.
"Please let me come," she says.
"Shit." I can't hold off, when she says that. She clenches hard around me like a vise, and I swear her * must have been made to fit my cock. "Come for me, sweetheart."
When she comes, it's wild. I have to cover her mouth to mute her, burying myself balls deep inside her as I let go of everything, filling her up. She bites down on my finger, her muscles clenching around my cock again and again. She goes weak and I have to I hold her tightly against me for I don't know how long, until I finally open my eyes.
I hadn't even realized they were closed.
My hands are wrapped around the top of her chest, my face buried in her neck. Our breath is still ragged, and I stand there listening to it and holding her, wondering why the hell I don’t feel the impulse I usually do, the one where every part of me is screaming “run like hell!” to get away from the chick in my bed.
Instead, I’m standing here, not wanting to let go. She moves against me, and I catch a whiff of her scent, laced with perfume – something warm that suits her – and it makes me want to stay here.
“Hey,” I say, my arms around her more tightly. I feel like the biggest scum of the earth for fucking her in the middle of the kitchen the way I just did. “Are you okay?”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Autumn
“Are you okay?” His breath on my neck sends a shiver up my spine, and I press my ass against him.
Am I okay? The fact that he asks makes me giggle.
Hell fucking yes I’m okay.
I just broke a two-year drought by having the filthiest sex I’ve ever had – I’ve lived a sheltered life – in my kitchen with a man a decade younger than me.
And he’s asking if I’m okay.
Damn it, I’m probably not okay at all. I’m out of my mind.