More than that, in truth.
She pushed her mouth against his just like he’d done to her, and the second she did he groaned. He said her name into her mouth, in the exact tone she would have used to say his. Desperately, she thought—though the rest of his words were worse. “I knew you’d be like this. I fucking knew when someone got you going you’d be horny as fuck—moaning for me and grabbing at me, goddamn,” he said, so hoarse and breathless she could hardly stand to hear him. She could hardly stand to look at him when those eyes laid on her. They were too heavy with lust for any reasonable person to take.
Though it didn’t seem like she was a reasonable person.
“It’s your fault, it’s all your fault you’ve turned me into a sex maniac,” she moaned in response.
And didn’t regret it for one single, solitary second.
“If I have, then lemme know how I did it so you never have to go back to the way you were.”
“Touching my tits like that is a really good start.”
“Like this? You like my hands on you like this.”
Who wouldn’t like his hands on them like this? she wondered. Every time she bucked, he smoothed his palms over them. Up, up, up, and then a sort of rolling squeeze on the way back down. It was heavenly. Unbelievable.
“Fuck, yes,” she said.
“Tell me why. Tell me why, baby.”
“Your hands look so big. So greedy for me.”
“They are. I am.”
“And you…and you brush my nipples every time you do it.”
“Feels sweet, huh? They all sensitive from that licking and sucking I gave them?”
“Ohhhhh yeah. Yeah, oh my god, yeah. I had no idea, I had no idea you could make something so simple feel so good. Your tongue on my nipples, on my clit, your hand between my legs…I just can’t get enough. I came about an hour ago, but it feels like a thousand years when you last touched me like this.”
His eyes stuttered closed before she got to that last this—though it was what he did in the aftermath that really made her ache. He just kind of rubbed his face into her belly, as if the idea was so sexy to him, so good, that he didn’t know how to process it. He just needed to be closer for a second.
To bury himself in her, and never come back out.
And when he finally spoke, it backed up that idea.
“Oh, Christ. Oh, honey. You’ve no idea what those words do to me.”
He didn’t even sound like himself anymore.
Lust had stolen his voice, and turned it into a constant low growl.
“Show me, then. Show me what they do to you.”
She wasn’t sure what she was expecting when she said the words. He’d already admitted how deep his desire went, and revealed what it did to him with actions. But then he sat back on his heels, hands already going to his zipper, and suddenly she understood.
This was what she’d been hoping for.
Him kneeling between her legs, popping that top button for her all quick and frantic. Eyes roaming all over her body as he did it, like it pained him to stop for even this small amount of time. It barely took him thirty seconds to shove those jeans down to midthigh and set that gloriously hard cock free. And it took him even less time than that to show her the best evidence.
He just rubbed over the glistening slit at the tip of his cock.
Then brushed those now-slick fingers over her parted lips.
At which point, nothing more needed to be said or done. It hit her so hard her head just automatically went back, body shuddering under its impact. That was his pre-come she could now taste on her lips. That was what she did to him—she made him leak streamers of that salt-sweet liquid all over himself.
It didn’t surprise her when she pushed a hand under the waistband of her skirt at the thought.
It did, however, surprise her when she added words, as she strummed her swollen clit.
“Jerk off for me. Take that big dick in your hand and make it come for me.”
“Ohhhh fuck me, are you serious? You’re telling me to do it…to do it for you?”
“Yeah. Yeah. Quickly, I’m really close.”
“You’re so close that you need me to rub one out fast.”
“That a problem?” she asked, voice so brisk it startled her.
It startled him, too, though in a slightly different way.
“Only if you stop there. If you stop telling me what you want.”
“You want more things?”
“I want everything.”
“Lift your shirt, then.”
“Jesus, oh Jesus.”
“Let me see you.”
“Like this?”
He tugged up the material and exposed his hard abs, his taut stomach—though really it was the way he did it that got her. Like a first-time stripper, awkwardly trying to show off. Still unsure of how his body looked to his audience, but going for it anyway.
“Oh yeah.”
“You like that?”
“I love that.”
“What else? What else do you love?”
“This. Your voice. You asking. You telling me.”
“You want me to tell you?”
“God yeah, tell me. Tell me what you want.”