I grabbed her wrist and pulled her into my arms.
“Let go of me.” She struggled, trying to squirm out of my hold.
“Are you sure you want me to do that?” I asked softly, my eyes boring into hers.
She hesitated, her chest rising and falling with slow, controlled breaths. “Yes.”
I clicked my tongue rapidly, my arm wrapping around her waist. “I don’t think so.”
“I’m serious, Artur, let go.” By now, her willpower was already thinning, leaving her vulnerable.
I ran the back of my hand along her cheek. “Say it like you mean it, and I promise I’ll grant your wish.”
Her body shuddered at my touch, her breath hitched in her throat. She leaned in, her face mirroring mine as she whispered against my skin, “Screw you, Artur.”
My grip tightened around her waist with a self-satisfied smirk on my lips. “Do you plan to actually follow through, or are those just empty words? Because I don’t mind being screwed…by you.”
I saw it in her eyes, that unmistakable flame of passion. She held my gaze for a moment, probably fighting against the urge to act on her fleshly desires.
I held her close, my hand daring to massage her soft ass, knowing it was only a matter of time before she gave in.
Three. Two. One. Now.
She drew a deep breath and rushed at my lips, sealing them with a fervent kiss. I kissed her back, heads tilting to the rhythm of our passion. Her hands fumbled for a moment as she struggled to take off my white singlet.
Fresh out of patience, I ripped her buttons apart, my hands finding and squeezing her breasts. She leaned into me, hands caressing my body as her tongue invaded my mouth.
The kiss was urgent, laced with desperation and anxiety. It was clear that she’d been starving as much as I had. And so we devoured each other’s lips like hungry beasts.
Her skin was softer and smoother than I remembered. Her breath was fresh and warm. She slid her hand below and then dipped it into my pants to withdraw my cock. I found my way to her up her tunnel and slid my finger beneath her panties.
Just as I thought, she was wet.
Soaking wet.
She let out a throaty moan once I slid a finger inside her. I’d missed that sound. She stroked my length without breaking our kiss, her breath coming in short gasps.
In a heartbeat, she shoved me down to the couch and quickly shed her shirt. I sat with my back against the backrest, watching the wild part of her take control.
She straddled me, her knees sinking into the soft cushion beneath me. Her hair spilled over her face as she edged closer and reclaimed my lips. She reached down, grabbed my cock, then positioned it outside her waiting entrance.
I gave her breasts a few gentle squeezes before caressing her skin and finally settling on her hips.
“Oh, fuck…” she murmured as I pushed myself deep inside her. “That feels so good.”
Celine stared into my eyes as she began grinding her waist against mine. Up and down. Side to side. That’s how she moved, riding me as though she was on a mission to make me come on time.
“Don’t think this changes anything,” she said, reaching to grab me by the neck. “I still hate your guts.”
“We’ll see about that.” I held her hips in place and began ramming her really hard from under.
“Fuck, yes!”
“You like that shit?” I kept going, faster and faster.
“Fuck you, Artur!” She smacked me across the face.
Wild and dangerously out of control. I liked it. I liked this crazy version of her that didn’t give a shit about the consequences of her actions. She quickened her pace, her waist moving more rapidly than ever.