“Tanner.” My name leaves her lips as a plea, a moan, and everything in between when she releases her hold on me and moves to help tug her shorts down. But just her shorts aren’t enough. I want all of her clothes off. She must feel the same way because, without a word, we begin an awkward dance toward the bed, an unspoken race to see which of us can get undressed quicker as we cover the few feet of distance. And just as she has her bra off so that we are both completely naked, I grab her from behind and pull her back against my chest.
As desperate as I am to bury myself in her, I also need to slow this down just a bit. Last time she came hard and quick, and as desperate as I am to do the same, I know that this will be our first second time that now holds meaning, and so I don’t want to make it any less than it could be by making it quick. Our labored breathing fills the air as my hands cup her breasts and I scrape the stubble on my chin across the curve of her shoulder and up to her ear. The sound of her sighing out my name is so fucking hot, it’s an aphrodisiac all in itself.
“Beaux.” Her name is all I say before I lace openmouthed kisses down the line of her neck, tasting salt on my tongue, while her perfume and the smell of her arousal assault my senses in an oddly arousing combination as I work my way to the other side of her neck. “I’ve had so many thoughts about what I was going to do with you once we had sex again. How I was going to slide between your thighs, tease you with my tongue until you were breathless and spent. Make you beg for more… but that game’s on me, isn’t it? Because right now I’m so goddamn primed, I’d beg, borrow, and steal to take you, and I think that’s just what you want. For me to take without asking, because that’s what you’re used to. Well, think again…,” I murmur in her ear, and leave the last word hanging as my hands slide down her abdomen once again to the pleasure between her thighs.
The hitch in her breath and the voluntary lift of one foot onto the bed so that I have better access tell me she feels this too, wants this too. “How do you like it, Beaux? Do you like when I slide my fingers right here, rub a little harder… faster… or do you like when I bury my fingers in your * and stroke right here?”
And I do just that, dip my two fingers inside her so that she tightens around me at the same time as her hands dig into my forearms when the sensations swamp her.
And I love feeling the intense reaction, take pride in knowing I can make her stop everything, and break her concentration with just my touch. Then I curl my fingers and rake them over the interior patch of nerves again as my other hand slides around her waist just in time for her knees to weaken. There is something so intimate about the moment, so real, that it throws me momentarily and causes her to lean back so that my cheek rests against hers.
“More,” she moans, and I begin to manipulate her sex again, fingers on the inside, thumb on her clit. Her head lolls back on my shoulder and her hips jut forward, a physical command telling me to give her more. I work my fingers in and out of her, desire growing, my thumb adding friction on her clit, her own writhing motion showing me just how she wants me to bring her to the cusp. With each thrust of her pelvis, she’s rubbing her ass against my rock-hard dick in the ultimate temptation I’m sure as hell going to take advantage of.
Her fingernails dig deeper into my skin, an indication that she’s almost there, so I keep manipulating her sex. “Argh. God,” she cries, hips bucking against my hand, hands trying to push and pull my forearms all at the same time as the pleasurable pain overwhelms her body and annihilates her senses. The sound of her coming undone is enough to make every part of me ache like a man on fire walking knowingly into the flames.