I lose all control, dissolving into pure sensation, every nerve in my body electric and lit up like someone flipped a switch I didn't know I had. He's worshipping my breasts, his mouth hot and wet and relentless, sucking and biting and using his tongue in ways that send waves of heat straight between my legs.
It's so intense I can barely think straight, can barely remember my own name, and I'm making sounds I've never made before, high and desperate and completely beyond my control.
I push up on shaking arms, shoving him back slightly, and start to unbuckle his belt with trembling fingers. He grins down at me, smug and knowing and so fucking pleased with himself, and I want to wipe that look off his face.
Or maybe keep it there forever. I haven't decided yet. I yank his jeans down along with his boxer briefs in one impatient motion, not bothering to be careful or sexy about it.
His cock is right in front of me and I stop breathing for a second. He's big. Thick and hard and flushed dark at the tip,already leaking precum, and I realize it's been a very long time since I've had sex. My mouth goes dry and then immediately waters, which is confusing and annoying.
But attitude iseverything. Never let them see you sweat.
"Well, someone's confident," I say, trying to sound unimpressed even though I'm absolutely staring and we both know it.
He laughs, his hand coming up to cup my face with a gentleness that makes my chest tight. I'm kneeling on the bed looking up at him, panting and flushed and leaning into his touch before I can stop myself.
It's impossible not to respond to him, impossible not to want more of whatever this is. He drops to his knees in front of me, his hands sliding up my thighs, and pulls my last remaining piece of clothing off. My lacy underwear slides down my legs, catching slightly on my knees before hitting the floor. He tosses them aside without looking and stares at my pussy, his eyes hungry and reverent.
He leans down, getting closer, his breath hot against my inner thigh, and I realize with a jolt of panic exactly what he's about to do. His hands spread my legs wider and I can feel his exhale against my wet skin.
"Er, no thank you," I stutter out, my voice higher than normal, and he looks up in surprise, his hands freezing on my thighs.
"Did you just say no thank you?" He grins, clearly trying not to laugh. "Like I offered you a dinner mint?"
I make a move to kick him with my foot but he catches it, his fingers wrapping around my ankle and holding it gently but firmly.
"Don't make fun of the woman you're about to sleep with," I say, fighting a giggle. "It's considered rude. And listen, I don't have guys go down on me. It's just not something I do."
He pauses, his expression shifting from amused to curious,his thumb still tracing slow circles on the inside of my ankle that are very distracting. "Can I ask why not? Because if it's about willingness, trust me, I'mextremelywilling." He smiles, and leans in slightly, his lips brushing the inside of my knee. "I've been thinking about tasting you for two weeks."
I gasp, caught completely off guard, and equal parts of me are at war. Half of me wants to grab his head and shove it exactly where I want it. The other half wants to hide away.
"It's just so…" I trail off, struggling to find the words, hating that I'm struggling. "I don't know, vulnerable. Like, so exposed. I hate it."
Embarrassingly, my hard nipples and soaking wet pussy seem to say otherwise. My body is a complete traitor. But thankfully the fear of being that open, that seen, is stronger than the want. Emotional unavailability prevails.
He nods slowly, not laughing now, just looking at me with those warm eyes. He climbs up my body until he's face to face with me, his weight settling over me in a way that feels grounding instead of trapping. His skin is hot everywhere we're touching, his cock hard and insistent against my hip, his eyes locked on mine with an intensity that makes me dizzy with something.
"Then I won't," he says simply. "Whatever you're comfortable with, Isabelle. No pressure, no expectations. But if you change your mind..." He trails off, grinning that devastating grin, and then kisses me deeply, his tongue sliding against mine, one hand cupping my face while the other slides down to grip my hip.
I melt into him, grateful and turned on and a little bit wrecked by how he didn't push or make it weird. He kisses me deeply and I kiss him back, his cock sliding against my wetness, hot and hard and right there. And then an idea hits me and I push him back slightly, grinning.
"You know, I might not be into that, but I'll tell you what Iaminto," I say, trying to sound haughty and confident.
He smiles, looking interested. "Oh yeah? Let me guess, you brought a whip to your Napa trip and you've been waiting for the right moment?"
"You wish," I say, gasping as his fingers trail down my stomach, making my breath catch. "No, but Ididbring a few toys with me. For my own pleasure, obviously. And if you're good, I might let you use one of them on me."
He blinks, processing, and then groans and buries his face in my breast like he's in pain. "You're killing me, Isabelle. You can't just say things like that."
I laugh, squirming as he bites gently at my nipple. "Ah, that tickles!"
"That's your punishment," he murmurs against my skin, then comes back up and kisses me hard, and I'm his again, completely helpless to fight it.
We kiss and grind against each other, his cock hot and slick along my thighs. I moan into his mouth, my hips moving restlessly, urging him closer to where I need him, needing him inside me in a way I don't think I ever have with anyone else before.
"Alright, fuck it," he says abruptly, pulling back and standing up, looking down at me sprawled on his bed. "Where are these toys you speak of?"
I giggle, writhing on the bed as he stands above me, his cock hard and jutting out from his body. The sight makes my mouth water. "Er... in my cardigan pocket. It's a pink rose vibrator."