I pulled him against me, my palms against his lower back, urging him to stop with the teasing and plunge inside me. But it was like he knew what I was after and enjoyed making me wait.
He pulled my shirt over my head, then lowered himself against me, so that our bodies were pressed together, so that I could feel the hard length of his cock grinding against my panties.
“You’re driving me insane,” I said, bucking my hips against him. Desperate for more contact.
In response, he pulled back, kneeling above me, propped up on his hands, too much space between our bodies. And then he just… stayed there, the picture of restraint, as I panted. Begging for him. “You’re beautiful,” he said, his gaze raking over me.
I reached out, my fingers raking across the elastic edge of his boxers. His lips curled upward. He loved that I wanted him so badly, that his patience was driving me to the brink.
And yet, he pushed my hand away, shaking his head. Denying me.
Instead, he waited at the edge of the bed, staring at me in such an intense way it nearly made me self-conscious. Like he wanted to drink his fill. He kept staring as he pushed his boxers down his hips, his cock springing to life. Kept staring as he took himself in his hand, slowly pumping up and down, his bottom lip sucked in as he teased it between his teeth.
I stayed that way, my knees open, my body exposed. And then he crawled over top of me, propping himself up on his elbows on either side of my shoulders. “I could come just looking at you,” he said, nudging my knees further apart with this.
He kissed me, slow and tender, his breathing jagged, the first clue that his restraint was not as easy as it looked. I slid my arms around his back, and his skin was hot to the touch, setting me on fire.
His lips were still on mine, his tongue sliding across my own as he plunged inside, painstakingly slow and easy. I was wet, ready for him, accepting his thickness.
Landon kept kissing me, slowly, deeply, his body picking up a rhythm my own body matched. My arms tightened around him, my fingers raking across his back.
And as he picked up an agonizingly slow, but steady pace, gritted my teeth to keep from crying out, my fingers twisting in the sheets.
“You feel so good,” he said, his voice more like a hot, tender whisper, the words hissing out between clenched teeth. It was like a fire was spreading in my veins, starting at the place he was pumping into me. In and out, in and out, the friction kept building, making stars dance in my vision, like white-hot pulses of light.
I’d wanted him to fuck me hard, to drive me to climax, but this was something else entirely. All I could feel was the place he was plunging in and out, the way my pulse kept building, higher and higher with each thrust, dancing closer and closer to climax.
He pressed me down into the mattress, bringing up one of his knees, forcing my legs to part further. Allowing him deeper access.
And then finally, when I couldn’t stand it anymore, he fucked me harder, his balls slapping against me, his grunts growing guttural, louder and louder.
His fingers wove into my hair, entwining with the strands as he leaned down against me, his mouth hot against my neck. He kissed and nipped on my throat, setting me aflame.
And I couldn’t get enough. But then suddenly he was there, pounding into me with all the force of a Mack truck. Each moment he pulled back and I grew desperate for him, he slammed back into me. The bed screeched under us, as if the force of our movement was too much.
With his left hand—the one not twisted into my hair—He reached around my hip, until he was cupping my ass, his fingers gripping me so tightly I thought he might leave a bruise. What I thought was fireworks exploded into something more as he kissed me again, his tender lips so at odds with how fast, how hard he was thrusting into me.
I groaned, bucking against him. I was spiraling upward, my pulse roaring ever louder in my ear.
“Do you like that?” he asked, his tongue tracing my lips as his dick plunged in and out, harder and harder with each passing moment. Now he was giving me everything I had thought I wanted and even more, driving me over the edge of what I could take.
The pleasure had become so intense as to be almost unbearable.
“Yes,” I said, on a whisper, barley able to breathe.
“What do you want?” he said, but it’s more of a command.
“Harder,” I replied, breathless. “Harder.”
He obliged, picking up the pace and slamming back into me, our skin slapping together. Faster and faster and faster, his dick plunging in and out, heat spiraling through me.
I reached up and grabbed my own breast, twisting it in my fingers, desperate for more. I played with my nipple, pinching it too hard between my fingers but unable to care. I was building, careening toward a cliff that I so desperately craved.