Alex
I pull her inside and she kicks the door shut behind us, her hands already fisting in my shirt and pulling me toward her. We stumble back laughing, kissing frantically like we've got about thirty seconds before the world ends and this is the only thing that matters.
We bump into the reading chair by the window, nearly knocking the damn thing over, and I catch her waist before she stumbles back, my fingers digging into the soft warmth of her through her thin shirt, pulling her flush against me so there's not a centimeter of space between us.
"Ah!" She yelps, giggling and clinging to my shoulders, her nails scraping lightly against the back of my neck in a way that sends heat straight to my cock. "Okay, two points for the save. Very smooth, Midnight."
"Mmm, and what do these points get me?" I ask between kisses, my hand sliding down the curve of her back, over her ass, squeezing as we move toward the bed. She feels incredible and I want to touch every inch of her.
"If you're lucky and continue to be good, you get to fuck me, which is about as good of a prize as you can get," she says, breathless and grinning up at me with that wicked glint in her eyes that's been making me insane for weeks.
I laugh, looking down at her, brushing my thumb along her flushed cheek, her skin hot under my touch. "Definitely the best prize I could possibly get."
She rolls her eyes, looking unimpressed. "Don't get romantic with me, alright?"
I grab her ass with both hands and squeeze hard enough to make her gasp, lifting her slightly so she has to grab onto me tighter. "I wouldn't dream of it, princess."
I lean down and kiss her again, deeper this time, my tongue sliding against hers, tasting her properly, and my cock twitches hard against my zipper, already straining. Her hand drops lower to palm me through my jeans, her fingers wrapping around the thick outline of my erection and squeezing.
I groan into her mouth, my head falling back slightly, my hips jerking forward into her hand without my permission. She strokes me through the fabric, slow and deliberate, her palm pressing against the full length of me, and I'm already so hard it hurts, my cock throbbing with every touch. I can feel the wet spot forming where the head is leaking precum into my boxers, soaking through, and I know she can feel it too because her smile turns smug.
"You're really worked up," she observes, and there's satisfaction in her voice that makes me even harder, makes me want to flip her over and show her exactly how worked up I am.
"You try watching you boss people around in a kitchen for two weeks straight and see how you hold up," I manage. "Do you have any idea what you look like when you're yelling at someone in French? It's fucking hot."
"Is that what does it for you?" She squeezes me through the fabric, her thumb rubbing over the head of my cock through thedenim, right where I'm leaking, and I groan again, louder this time. "Me being bossy?"
"Among other things." I'm barely holding it together and she knows it.
"What other things?" She's teasing me now, her hand working me steadily through my jeans, and I'm going to lose my mind if I don't get inside her soon.
"Well I like when you're a bit mean to me," I say, leaning down to kiss along her jawline, then down her neck, sucking gently at the spot where her pulse is racing beneath her skin. She gasps and tilts her head back, giving me more access, and I scrape my teeth lightly over her throat.
My hand slides under the hem of her shirt, fingers spreading across the warm skin of her stomach, and she shivers. I move slowly, deliberately, feeling her breath hitch as I trace up her ribcage, then back down to her hip. Her skin is impossibly soft, and when my fingers brush the waistband of her pajama pants, she makes a small sound in the back of her throat that goes straight to my cock.
"See, if you like when I yell at you, more of that can be arrang—oh fuck!" She moans, loud and surprised, as I slide my fingers into her pajama pants, cupping her pussy over her underwear first. The fabric is already damp, soaked through, and I groan at the feeling.
I don't go further yet, just teasing. "I also like when you get frustrated with me and your face crinkles up a bit. Your nose scrunches and you give me that look like I'm the most irritating person you've ever met."
"That's what you think about?" Her hips shift forward slightly, seeking more contact.
"I think about a lot of things," I say, my fingers dipping lower, tracing the edge of her underwear.
I can feel the heat radiating from between her legs. She spreads them slightly, making room, and I slip beneath the laceand find her wet and swollen and so ready it makes my head spin.
"Oh god," she breathes.
I find her clit and circle it slowly with my thumb, and her knees buckle slightly. I catch her with my other arm, holding her up, keeping her pressed against me while I explore. I'm trying to memorize this, what makes her gasp, what makes her moan, how she feels under my fingers.
I slide lower, teasing her entrance with just the tip of one finger, and she makes a desperate sound.
"Please," she says, and I've never heard her saypleasefor anything.
I push inside slowly, just to the first knuckle, and she's so tight and hot and clenching around me that my brain short-circuits for a second.
She feels incredible. Tight and wet and so warm, her inner walls clenching around just that first inch of my finger, and all I can think about is how she's going to feel wrapped around my cock. How tight she'll be, how she'll clench and squeeze, how she'll look under me with her legs spread and her face flushed and her eyes dark.
"Dammit, Isabelle," I breathe against her neck. It takes everything in me not to come right there in my jeans like a teenager, or drop to my knees and bury my face between her legs and taste her until she's shaking. Later. Definitely later. Right now I need to be inside her or I'm going to lose my mind.