Then I moved down, slowly, discovering his chest and abs with my hands, mouth, teeth and tongue. The whole time he stroked my hip, bottom and back, but otherwise, he didn’t touch me.
I took my time, enjoying the feel and taste of him and his response, which consisted of the tightening of muscles, low groans (my favorites) and sometimes his fingers would bite into me if I did something he real y liked.
Then I dipped lower, taking him into my hand and then into my mouth.
His hand slid into my hair.
“Fuck,” he said low.
“Fuck,” he said low.
I knew he liked what I was doing, I could tel and it turned me on, so much so I went gung ho, giving him al my best moves and making up new ones. Al of a sudden his hand left my hair, both his hands went under my armpits and he yanked me up onto his body.
Mmm, seemed it was time to get serious.
I sat up, moving to the side, saying, “Let me take off –” but he pul ed me back over him and pushed me up so I was straddling him. His hands went to my underwear and gave them a vicious tug. My hips jerked forward, the material tore and then my panties were gone.
“Whisky,” I said, stunned that he just tore off my underwear (maybe he was part caveman, except a real y good-looking one (and without al the hair)) but I had no time to process this. His hands were at my hips and he pushed down just as his hips lifted up and he slammed into me.
It felt great, unbelievably great and I nearly lost track of what I was doing. I bit my lip, control ing my desire to let him take over and bent forward, kissing his neck under his ear and said, “Hank, please. This time let me.” Partly, I did this because I wanted to give him something but partly I did this because it was fucking wel my turn.
His grip loosened at my hips, which I took as his affirmative answer, and I started moving slowly, exploring his neck with my mouth al the while. When it was time to stop playing, when I knew we both wanted more, I pul ed up but didn’t go down, thinking to give him a taste of his own medicine.
In his ear I said, “I want my car back.”
“Sunshine,” he groaned, his hands biting into me.
“Promise me Hank.”
He laid stil and, just when I thought I had him where I wanted him, his hands tightened and he flipped me to my back and took over, pushing in deep and then grinding.
“Whisky! It’s my turn!” I cried, wrapping my arms around him and lifting my hips into his.
“Don’t use sex to manipulate,” he told me.
I stared at him in the dark.
“You do it al the time!” I said.
“I’m good at it,” he quit grinding and started moving. I couldn’t help it, I moved with him. “And I don’t do it with anything that’s important.”
I ignored his arrogance and the fact he was ful of shit.
The night before he’d used it to try to manipulate me into staying. If that wasn’t important, I didn’t know what was.
I decided, instead, to go back to the matter at hand, or at least one of the matters at hand. “I want my car back,” I demanded but it came out kind of breathy.
“Quiet,” he returned.
“I want my car back,” I repeated.
He kissed me, I went dizzy. He kept my mouth busy so I wouldn’t talk and my body busy so, after awhile, I couldn’t talk.
Then, I felt it. I twisted my head and tensed, breathing into his ear, “Whisky, I’m going to…” I didn’t finish. He lifted my legs with his hands behind my knees and pounded into me and I lost the ability to speak.
When he was done, he rol ed to the side, then to his back, taking me with him. I lay on top of him for a while, my head on the pil ow next to his, my forehead pressed to his jaw.
Final y I said, “That wasn’t fair.”
“The first time you touch me, it’s so you can ask me for your car so you can leave me. I didn’t feel much like playin’
fair.”
“Hank.”
He interrupted me. “You were cal in’ me Whisky a few minutes ago when you intended to make me do what you wanted by takin’ me in your mouth.”
I realized then that he was angry and I came up on my elbows.
“Are you angry?” I asked, even though I knew he was.
“You are ‘She’s the One’.” I gasped.
“I am not ‘She’s the One’,” I snapped.
“You’re completely ‘She’s the One’.”
“Am not!” I shouted.
“Please tel me we aren’t havin’ this ridiculous conversation,” he said, sounding exasperated.
“You started it,” I returned.
“I see. We are having this ridiculous conversation.” I made a strangled noise.
He rol ed me onto my back and then his weight moved and he reached over me, switching on the light. Then he settled on his side, towering over me and looked at me.
Before he could say anything I said, “I want my car.”
“You aren’t leavin’,” he replied.
“No. I’m not. I just want my car.”
“Then you aren’t gettin’ it until I know you won’t do anything stupid, like leave.”