He settled his hips between her thighs and kissed her, soft and slow, his hard cock resting against her belly. Lord, he could kiss, the lips and tongue that had just made her scream teasing her, arousing her again, carrying her taste into her mouth.
He broke the kiss, looked down at her, one big hand moving over her, his gaze following his touch. “Kristi … angel. I missed you so much.”
He cupped one breast, lowered his head, and sucked her nipple into the heat of his mouth, the sweet tug of his lips sending jolts of arousal to her belly, rekindling the fire he’d just quenched.
Oh, she loved this, loved the way he made her feel desperate and needy, the way he made her ache as he feasted on first one breast and then the other, drawing her nipples to tight peaks. Then he reached between her thighs, careful with her, knowing she was hypersensitive now, the gentle probing of his fingers adding to her arousal, fanning the flames of lust.
She slid one hand along the curve of his back, drank in the feel of him, hard muscle shifting beneath soft skin. She was more than ready for him, but he wasn’t the kind of man to rush her. He always took his sweet time with her, never once putting his pleasure ahead of hers, slowly unraveling her until she came completely apart.
Oh, she was so far gone already, her body taut with sexual need and longing for him. “I want you inside me.”
He lifted his head, grinned. “Yeah?”
“Now.”
He shifted his hips, lifted himself up, holding his weight with both arms.
But when she reached down to guide him inside her, he stopped her, drawing back, pulling his cock out of reach. “Not yet.”
Anticipation shivered through her.
That was the thing about Malik. He was amazing with his mouth and his fingers. He was even more amazing with his cock.
He rested his erection against her clit, made little thrusting motions with his hips, rubbing her with the head of his cock, the friction enough to make her want him even more, but not enough to make her come.
“You’re driving me crazy.”
“I love to watch you squirm.”
Soon, she was doing exactly that, her hips lifting, her body instinctively reaching for his. Then he reached down, rested the tip of his cock against the opening to her vagina—and she moaned. But he didn’t enter her—not yet.
Instead, he teased her, rubbing himself over her entrance, his brow furrowed with concentration—or pleasure. “You are so wet.”
When she couldn’t take it any longer, he nudged himself into her with deliberate and agonizing slowness, inch by delicious inch.
Kristi’s exhale became a long moan as he went deeper. She wanted all of him, wanted him to fill her completely. But he had other ideas.
He withdrew and then entered her slowly again… and again… until it was almost maddening. She reached down, took hold of his ass, tried to pull him into her. He chuckled, kept up his assault on her senses, not yielding to pressure.
Then without warning, he changed the pace, driving into her hard and fast a few times, making her cry out. Then he withdrew and entered her with another achingly slow thrust. He did this again and again, carrying her closer to the brink each time, only to leave her hanging.
“Malik.”
He chuckled again, but there was just a hint of a moan at the end, a tightness to his voice, proof that it was getting harder for him to hold on, too.
Two could play at this game.
When he next entered her, she tightened herself around him, clenching her inner muscles as hard as she could.
His response was an immediate, low moan. “Geezus.”
She felt his control begin to fray, his body tensing, his breathing as ragged as hers.
He slipped into a regular rhythm with deep, gliding strokes, stretching her, satisfying that inner ache, pleasure drawing tight in her belly.
Oh, God, yes, that’s what she needed… harder… faster …
“Ooh, Malik. Fuck me.”