Sense? What’s he on about?
He withdraws his fingers from me and pulls me down from the worktop, turning me slowly in his arms. My hands find the flat surface of the granite. I’m not happy with this position.
‘I want to see you.’ I moan, although I don’t fancy my chances. He seems like the dominant type.
I feel his body closing in on me, the heat pouring out of him and into me. When the firmness of his chest presses up against my back, I lean on him, the back of my head resting on his shoulder.
He turns his mouth into my ear. ‘Shut up and soak up the pleasure.’ He pushes his hips into the small of my back and slowly grinds into me as he reaches forward, placing his hands on my wrists. ‘No talking unless I tell you. You got that?’
I nod. This is definitely a man who likes to be in control.
He begins a slow, languid jaunt up my arms with his talented fingers, leaving my skin prickling in their wake, spreading fire through my veins. My breasts ache for his touch as he reaches the tops of my arms and moves onto my shoulders. I clamp my lips together, but a moan escapes. I can’t help it, not when he’s making me feel like this.
His hands span my shoulders entirely, and he begins circling his thumbs into the base of my neck, working out the stiffness that’s looming there. The feeling is out of this world. My body is relaxed and my mind serene.
Lowering his mouth to my neck, he brushes his lips over my skin before kissing me gently. ‘Your skin is addictive.’
‘Hmmm.’ I purr. That’s not talking.
He laughs softly. ‘This good?’ he asks, trailing feather soft kisses up and down my jaw. I turn my face in towards him, meeting him square in the eye. I nod again.
He soaks up my gaze for a few seconds, his expression contented, before planting a soft kiss on my lips and letting his hands work their way down to my hips. I clench my eyes shut, trying my hardest not to jolt forward.
‘Keep your hands where they are.’ he orders firmly, releasing his hold of me.
I hear the sounds of his trousers being removed before his hands are back on my hips. He’s steps back from me, slowly taking my hips with him. My pulse accelerates and I shift my grip on the worktop to support myself in my braced position. I flinch when his hand cups the base of my neck, feeling his erection nudging at my opening. In an attempt to stabilise my breathing, I draw a long breath, trying to relax as I linger on the brink of penetration. This is the worst kind of torture.
He leans forward, his warm, wet tongue connecting with my back, licking a straight line up the centre of my spine, finishing with a soft kiss on the base of my neck.
‘Are you ready for me, Ava?’ he asks against my skin, the vibration of his lips sending tremors of pleasure straight to my core. ‘You can answer.’
Despite my breathing exercises, I’m still short of breath. ‘Yes.’ I’m virtually panting.
The rush of air that escapes his mouth is thorough appreciation. I feel his hand brush against my bum as he positions himself, then, very slowly, he breaches my pulsing void, plunging in smoothly and controlled. His breathing is laboured, and I want to scream in pleasure, but I’m not sure that it’s allowed.
Oh, this is good. What will he do if I disobey him, anyway? My loss will be his loss too. He repositions his hand back on my hip and stills. My grip tightens on the counter until my knuckles are bloodless, and I find myself pushing back against him, taking him to the hilt.
‘Fuck, Ava, you turn me inside out.’ he groans, his hand tightening around my neck, holding me in place, his other leaving my hip and reaching around to cup my breast. ‘I can’t do this slow.’ he pants as he moulds me. He withdraws slowly and advances, hard and fast, in one swift lash, jolting me forward.