Breaking the kiss, my mouth a breath away from his, I whisper, “You said use you, right?”
I watch his Adam’s apple bob before he says, “That’s right.”
I slide down his body until I’m kneeling by his hips. With surprisingly steady hands, I undo the tricky button on his jeans, my fingers brushing against the hair that disappears into his briefs as I draw the zipper away. With care, I pull the jeans over his hips and help him push them down his legs. The bulge under the thick layer of cotton makes my mouth water.
Peeling those off as well, his cock springs free, the head flushed red, the base thick and ready. I kneel beside him, using my tongue first on the underside vein and have the pleasure of watching his hand clutch the sheets in my line of vision. He throbs in my hands as I take him deep in my throat. He grips the back of my thigh with one big palm, so high up I can feel the heat of his palm through the material of my jeans.
When I begin to suck in earnest, his hand moves higher, teasing me through my pants and wringing gasps of pleasure from my mouth around his cock. Unable to feel me how he wants, his hands move to the space between my back and my jeans, sliding in until he finds the skin he craves.
He cups one cheek with a firm grip, wrenching a deep groan from my throat. With sheer strength alone, he manages to squeeze his hand between the tight fit of my jeans until he reaches my * from behind. When he can’t find enough space to move in the confined area he growls, lurching up to fumble with my buttons until they release and he can plunge a finger into me.
I gasp around his cock, working him frantically now, deep enough that it brings tears to my eyes, making me gasp with each release. His legs start to contract, his toes curling up into little knots, and his balls draw up tight between his legs where I’ve been fondling them with one hand. He tries to pull back, dislodge me, but I don’t budge, sucking him into my throat until I can’t anymore.
When I think he’s about to come, he explodes from the bed, but not with release. Instead, he forces me onto my back, his face a ferocious contortion of a man on the edge, nearly wild with need.
His legs bump mine open and he rips my pants and panties down and off. Then his hips lock onto mine and he drags the broad head of his cock over my sensitive clit, causing my back to arch away from the bed. He does it again, his face twisted with indecision now.
“Fuck me,” I say, my voice hoarse. “Please, don’t worry about being gentle this time, Jack. I just want you. Hard and fast and rough and everything in between. Just fuck me.”
He thrusts home before I even finish my plea, the last part of it going high and hoarse as he plunges so deeply I lose the ability to breathe. His lips take mine and he gives it back, kissing me deeply, thoroughly, even as his cock sets a brutal rhythm that stokes the fire and offers no relief.
My arms and legs twine around him, my legs high up on his hips and my arms around his neck, anchoring him to me as I buck against him. The push and pull that’s fueled our relationship since the first time he kissed me is present in the torturous climb to release that he stalls, making his strokes long and deep, but not quite fast enough to bring me to completion.
I sob against his throat, but this time in frustration. His weight pins me to the bed now, leaving me no other option but to take each thrust as he gives them, which is almost as hot as the feeling of him hard and thick inside me.
“You have to go faster,” I say desperately. “Harder.”
He takes my hands and knots them with his above my head as he continues his leisurely strokes. “No,” he says. “You’ll take it as I give it. You want me to fuck you, I’m gonna fuck you my way. And that means I’m gonna enjoy every wet suck of your * until you come.” He tips his hips up to punctuate each thrust, hitting a spot inside that makes my eyes cross. “That’s it,” he whispers into my hair.
“Please.” I strain to create more friction, but it’s useless with his rock hard body above me, holding me down to suffer the teasing strokes.
“Please what?”
“Make me come. Please. I wanna come.”
His thrusts increase and he adds a finger to my clit, just a light, teasing touch, but it, combined with his body enveloping me, his cock overpowering me, builds an orgasm that is a release in every sense of the word. It washes over me in one, fluid wave that builds for a second time as the pressure of his finger and the speed of his thrusts increase. When it hits, a sob tears free of my throat with each slap of our bodies until my cries turn soundless.
He comes with a full-body shudder and a shout that he clamps off by pressing his face into my hair. He rests his weight on me, heaving unsteady breaths and sweaty, his chest sticking to mine, but neither of us care—or have the ability—to move.