Lust Is...
This room is our Eden. This man is my forbidden. In bed he is animal. The world sees him as urbane. I know that his power is lust, and his seduction is consuming. I am religion and he sanctifies and defiles. He uses me. I use him, too. I hate him. I love him. I facilitate between the two often.
We do not count time in here. Perceptions of time are based upon the way the sun lightens dawn and how the night bruises day.
He is too far away from me. I reach for him. Grinning, he moves away from the bed. My need for him makes him feel like a god, he says.
He is handing me a decorative plate with a sandwich on it, prettied up in neat halves with garnishes atop it and a tulip glass of white wine. It is a kind gesture but I do not crave food or drink. I take the plate and drink, placing both, untouched, on his nightstand. I will not put anything in my mouth but him.
Life is a sensual, seductive spread. I am voracious.
“Eat.” He thinks I’ve worked up an appetite. He’s right. I am hungry, but not for food.
I stretch my arms above my head so that the black silk sheet dips below my waist. His eyes are locked on my breasts. My nipples are hard, tight points begging to be licked, sucked, plucked. “You first,” I breathe.
He makes a strangled sound that is more animal than man and looks away. Then his eyes are on me again, devouring all of me. He can never look away from me for long.
Because lust just is. Why fight it?
There is no room for shame to grow between us, especially when our bodies are tangled in need. We are like animals in that way.
I never want to go home. I never want to go to work. Nothing else compares to the way I feel when he’s on top of me, filling me with his cock, or when I’m on top, taking all the pleasure I can handle from him.
He smiles and rolls over, settling between legs that I will always open for him. “You’re so fucking perfect. Can’t get enough of you.”
I smile back. To him, I am perfect when I’m not wearing makeup, or my usual business attire, all elegant and whatnot. “You’d better always feel that way.”
His hand caresses the length of my body down to my hip and back up to my breasts. “Always,” he whispers in a tone so carnal I mewl. “I’m in love with your body.”
Shivering under his primal gaze, I gather up half a voice to say, “It’s yours whenever you want it.”
“You have a deadline to meet,” he reminded me. “Your publisher is hounding you as is.”
He’s right. I do have a book to write but I am snug between an intensely sexual man at my front and luxurious silk at my back and that is all that I care about right now. He is everything that I want and need, the manifestation of uninhibited virility, primal energy, more than I could have ever dreamt up and without a doubt better than any man I’ve ever had.
“I’d rather you hound me,” I said.
“I’m trying to help you.”
“And I’m helping you help me,” I say to him in the husky tone that drives him mad.
He growls. He could make that sound while staring at me with those dark eyes and I’d come on cue. “Don’t make this hard for me.”
I run my hands over his chest, appreciating the masculine feel of the fine black hairs there before teasing his nipples with my fingers.“By making you hard?” I grind my hips up. He is hard and ready, but he’s fighting his need for me, holding back.
He groans at the feel of me, wet and soft, sliding against him. “You’re—” he takes a ragged breath when I grind up against him again and says “—spoiled.”
“You spoil me.” I pout because I know that he loves when I beg, then pinch his small nipples. “Just fuck me already.”
A smirk curves his handsome mouth. “You don’t get to make demands.”
“Says who?” I arch against him again.
He closes his eyes, biting back a groan. “Me.”
Knowing that he is barely reining in his hunger for me turns me on even more. “I say fuck me.”
He growls again, then drops his head in my neck. I wait for him to kiss or lick or suck and when he doesn’t I groan my frustration. After a long moment, he removes his head from my neck and his face is a cool veneer, his eyes a million miles away.
“Don’t think.” I push the loose curl away from his face and kiss him. “Just make me come.”
He laughs. I think, for a brief moment, that I have convinced him. He will fuck me. But then he stops laughing and looks at me with long distance eyes again. “I’ll say it again: do not make demands.”
I roll my eyes. “Why are you not in me?”
“Because I’m having a conversation with you.”
“Fuck now. Talk later.”
He stares down at me, his eyes are lust and his mouth is a straight line of strain. He is sundered by the need that he has for my body and his need for control; a man divided.
He pushes up from me, breaking the hold I had him wrapped in, and rolls out of bed with practiced grace. I watch him. His fit, athletic body has been worked over by mine for hours and his skin is still dewy from it. I still want him. Aways will. “Who is she?”
He jerks on a pair of black silk pajama pants that matches the sheet gathered about my waist. The thinness of his pants do not mask much as he is not wearing anything under them and his big, thick cock is still terribly hard. “Who?”
I lean my face upon my hand. “The woman you’re in love with.”
He looks at me, startled, but still, I see blissful stars in his eyes. The mere mention of her makes his eyes light up. “How did you—“
“Come on, Michael,” I interrupt, “it’s not hard to tell when a man is in love.”
He reaches over and grabs the glass I put on the nightstand, downing the drink in one swallow.
I grab the glass, refill it, and take slow sips in an attempt to gain courage to listen to what he’s about to say. I need it.
He smiles and the stars in his eyes multiply, an expanding star, before shattering and producing more stars. “I’m in love.”
I tousle my bedridden hair with my hand and look at him. I wonder if my eyes ever look like that when I think of him. Probably. “I know.”
He shakes his head, his curls a mess of tangles and knots from my pulling and tugging. I want to muss it more while riding the memory of her out of him. But he’d rather talk about the woman he loves when he could be fucking me instead. “She doesn’t even realize it.”
I sigh and pull the silk sheet over my body, wrapping myself in the nest of lust where we’d spent the past day fucking and resting and fucking all over again. I knew a little something about unreciprocated love but I’d never tell him that.
I try not to admire the way the silk pants hang below the lines of his lean hips, but I can’t help it. I can’t deny myself the visual pleasure of looking at him. He’s too sexy. Too intense. Too virile.
He sits on the edge of the bed with his back to me. I hate that he is putting distance between us. I hate the woman he loves, whoever she is even more because she is the reason he is in his mind. “She doesn’t love me back.”
I stare at his slouching back for a minute, and even his back is something to marvel at. If I were a painter, he’d be my muse. I almost want to learn to paint, to stroke a paintbrush, all in an inspired attempt to capture just a fraction of his vision. “Michael.” I sigh. “Have you asked her? Does she know?”
He turns his head and looks at me. His eyes are dark like an arctic night. Cold and empty, no longer glittering with hope or infatuation. “I just know.” In his voice I hear the love and passion he feels for her, and I’ve never wanted to be someone else before now.
With envy fueling me toward proving that I can be as good as she is, I crawl toward him, the black silk trailing me like an untraditional dress train. I wrap my arms around his neck, pressing my breasts against his back; my nipples are knots of sexual tension against his warm skin. I run my palms down his tensed biceps, massaging the corded muscles. I whisper, “I can make you forget.”
He closes his eyes and inhales, smelling the intoxicating love we’ve created in this room. “Is it that simple for you?”
I drop my head in the hollow where his shoulder meets his neck and hold him. We are still for a few moments, both relishing in the intimacy of just being held. “It can be for you, too.” I lick his collarbone, tasting the salt on his skin from the hours of our lovemaking. “I can make you forget so that we can be right now.”
Running my hands down his chest, I relax him by trying to convey to him the way I feel about him. Like how much I love him and would do anything to make him forget her and focus on me, if only for the time that our joined bodies commune.
He lifts my palm to his lips, kisses it. “Make me forget then.”
I position myself on the floor before him and reach under the elastic of his black silk pants. He sucks in a heavy breath when I grip his brutally-hard cock.
I look up at him under heavy-lidded eyes. “Would you look at that? Already so hard and I haven’t done anything yet.”
He raises his hips from the bed and I snatch his pants down to his ankles, too impatient to take them all the way off when his rock-hard cock bounces in my face. “Show off.” Taking his heavy, broadly-veined length into my hands, I stroke him, using my hands before I use my mouth to blow him crazy.
His gaze is hot and heavy, his square jaw tight with restraint. “You drive me fucking crazy,” he says, pulling my hair back, making me look into his face while I notch my fists up to the crown of his dick. “I can’t get anything done when you’re around. All I see is you whenever you’re around. All I want to do is fuck you.”
I can’t fit all of him in my hands. He’s too big. That turns me on like crazy. Wetting my lips, I squeeze the head of his cock, imagining the taste of him that I know so well. “Good.” That lets me know that I’m doing something right, and that if I can’t be the one he loves, at least I’m the one who consumes him.
“Nat,” he breathes the word like a benediction, making my cunt quiver with feminine power.
I give him a look. “Be a good boy and sit.” He does.
His eyes darken and he produces a raw, angry, intensely sexual sound that makes me shiver and ache for him more. My blood is scorching hot, my skin is flushing, and I have to have him in my mouth.
But I temper my impatience with one thought: I promised to make him forget her, and I will do my damnedest to make sure that by the time he comes, she’s gone from his mind.
I pump him with clenched fists, finding the rhythm that excites him, feeling the smooth skin scrunch as it gives way to the friction of my fists. His balls are heavy and full, a display of his inexhaustible need for me that fuels my ego. Rolling them in the cup of my hand, I massage, feeling them tighten and draw up.
He catches the curve of his bottom lip with his tongue. I want to be his bottom lip. Dark eyes never leave my face, even as he tangles his hands in my ebony curls. “Suck it,” he hisses at me, his jaw clenches.
I give him an innocent look but my body betrays me with a shiver. “Suck what?”
He gives me a knowing look and pulls my hair back with a vicious grin on his face. “You take me by my balls and you love to tease, and I usually enjoy it. But not right now. Understand?”
I love when he gets like this—insatiable and unapologetic. When he’s like this, I am more than eager to obey and be a good girl.
Clutching him in my hand, I can’t help but marvel at the intense virility of what hangs heavy between his strong legs. Twirling my tongue around the ridge of his crown, I lick at the pre-cum already spilling from the tip, trickling down his length. I trace the veins imprinted on the length of him with my tongue, licking and lavishing him up and down.
I hear him hiss above me when I glide my mouth over his wide crown, sucking his head with long drawing pulls and spilling moans and promises of even more bliss out of my mouth, vibrating his cock with my working throat.
Groaning, he grabs at the sheet behind him, clutching them in his large hands. I don’t have to look to know that his knuckles are white with strain, gripping the black as sin sheets.
I savor the feel of his plush, swollen head against my tongue and in my mouth. I take him to the back of my throat, as far as I can possibly go, then pull back to the crown.
His head falls forward and his gaze is hot. It makes me need him more. Makes me more animal, less inhibited.
In a greedy need to swallow more of him, I hollow my cheeks and suck him harder, from crown to base over and over again, driven by his raw, hungry sounds and the way his strong hands claw with careless surrender at the pricey silk. When his hips stir and his hands are just as restless, I slide my tongue down the throbbing veins sucking with unrelenting, forceful suction.
“All the way,” he growls. “Take it all.”
I rub his cock against the ridges of the roof of my mouth as I’m sliding him closer to the back of my mouth. His hands yank at my hair when I reach the base. I gag on him, stuffing my mouth with as much of him as I can fit, feeling him nudging the back of my throat.
Grunting his pleasure, his body echoes that same mindless satisfaction when he throbs inside my mouth. I flutter my tongue over the hypersensitive underside of his cock head.
I pump the thick of him with my hand, coaxing more pre-cum from his tip and licking it when it spurts, greedy to taste him. He groans, muscles bunch and cord beneath the smoothness of his pale skin, his breathing ragged and torn. “Shit.”
I pull away from him slowly and watch as my saliva mixed with his pre-cum separates from his cock in a slow trickle. I moan in excitement and mutual pleasure. I squirm because I am wet beyond words, and I want—need him at my mercy like this.
I stroke him with my fist, hard, exercising my own need for control. An animal sound rips from his throat and a sample of salty, highly savored warmth spurts on my tongue. He is close, his face is possessed by passion too strong to extinguish and the overwhelming need to come. His skin is hot and misted with sweat, the flush on his cheeks color his pale face. He parts his lips with gulps and gasps, muttering inaudible things in that sexy, rough tone of his.
His muscles then tense, stiffening for a brief moment and in that pause, I am unleashed because I know that he is about to come undone. I am wild; beyond insatiable.
I wrap both fists around him, taking advantage of his vulnerability and I suck him, hard, pulling and drawing my mouth around him in a desperate push to make him come. His mouth pauses on a soundless breath, his back straightens as he clenches his eyes shut and flings his neck back in absolute surrender. I give a hard, sucking pull on his crown, luring and beckoning his orgasm to me and his eyes snap open like a man inhabited by ecstasy. “Oh, Fuck. God.”
Hands yank at my hair, his mouth works at growling my name as he explodes in a violent flood, filling my mouth. He shoves upward, reaching the back of my throat while I hold on to the tense muscles in his thighs to balance myself against the power of his thrusts. My eyes water and it’s hard to breathe around him, but still, I take it all. My fists tighten, squeezing and pushing up the pulsing thick length of his cock, swallowing until he is spilling from the sides of my mouth and shuddering with sensitivity from coming so hard.
I pull back from him with reluctance and semen parts from my mouth, slicking the inside of his thigh and my chest. He groans at the sight and rubs his thumb at the semen on my lips, spreading it around the curls of my swollen lips.
I trap his thumb in my mouth, tasting at it, before licking my lips. I let his hand drop away before collecting all the spilled cum with my finger, and licking that too. I don’t waste a drop of my milking. “Yummy.”
He smirks. “Get enough?”
I kiss the beautiful-looking cock laying heavily against his stomach, the straining length of him still hard and throbbing, making me even hotter at the endless virility of him. He is always hard and ready for me. “Never.”
He teases his bottom lip with his agile tongue. “That’s too bad. The rest of my cum is reserved for when I’m filling your cunt.” His voice is so hoarse, rougher than his usual sinuous tone.
I smile, tracing my tongue up a vein that reaches toward the crown of his impossibly hard length, making him jerk because he’s still so sensitive. “But why? I like it in my mouth.”
He reaches forward and pushes his hands down my ass, massaging the soft flesh, kneading it with talented hands. “You’ll love it anywhere I put it.”
“Michael.” I shake all over.
His mouth finds mine, velvety and hot and wet, my tongue licking his. I wrap my arms around his neck, holding him there while our mouths slide over the other. He hums in my mouth before pulling away and cupping the curve of my buttock. “I love your ass.”
“Mmm.” I moan, loving the feel of his hands pressing into my buttock.
He stops massaging and jerks me up, tossing me on the soft bed with urgency. Then he flips me over on my belly and tugs my hips up to him. I think he’s going to fuck me from behind, but when I feel his warm breath against my cheeks I tremble.
I hold my breath. “What are you going to do?”
My breath tears out of me when I feel the tip of his stiff tongue licking along the seam. My knees give out but he forces my hips up again, rimming me, rolling his velvet tongue at my puckered opening.
I scream. The tight muscle tenses, and he pushes his tongue deeper. I crawl away. “Oh!”
He pushes me onto his rolling tongue, opening both cheeks with his hands, keeping me locked in place.
“Wait!” I tighten all over. His tongue is inside me, plunging deeper. “Ah, fuck…God.” My toes curl up so tight, my lungs swell, and I fist at the cum-and-sweat slicked sheet with my long nails. It’s all I can do to not lose my mind.
Then, I don’t care about anything but the feeling of his tongue inside me, and I raise onto his mouth, pushing back at him. Greedy for me, he keeps licking and sucking at me. He presses a finger against my pulsing clit and I am coming before I know it’s happening, gasping his name as pleasure devastates my body.
I slump, my muscles weak and worn-out. I need a minute or two to recover, I think.
But when he leans forward and pulls me up on the bed with him, devoid of patience and I realize that I don’t need anything but his hard cock fucking me.
“Ride me.”
I straddle him, eager to comply. He traps my naked hips in his hands and pulls me on his hard cock. I moan, securing my lip between my teeth when I rub my wet slit down his warm length.
He catches a groan in his throat. “You always need me.”
I rock my hips against him, pleasuring myself with his hard length. “Your cock,” I correct him. “Always.”
His eyes are burning desire and the stars are back. He tightens his hold on my hips until his fingers are digging into my skin. “You love when I’m inside you. Cramming you full,” he rasps at me, his teeth clench.
I grind my hips against him harder, needing to feel more of him against me. “Ooh, shit.”
I reach between us and wrap my fingers around his stiff cock. I sheathe his broad head with me and he tenses beneath me. I can feel the muscles in his body clench, all over.
I tremble at the sensation rushing over me. I’m on fire. I feel more aware of the pheromones mixing with the deep scent of lust and sweat in the air. “Michael,” I hiss.
“Fuck,” he chokes out. “Nat, Nat, Nat.”
We are eye-to-eye, I’m baring all to him and he’s holding back, fisting his hands against my hips in a battle for control. “Michael.”
“So tight.”
I grab fistfuls of his short hair. “Stop fucking me like a stranger.”
He groans and cups my face, pressing his fingers into my cheeks hard. “You treat me like a stranger.”
“Not today. Not yesterday.”
“Only because you’ve been fucking me nonstop,” he bit out, clenching his teeth in exquisite torment. “Otherwise, you say very few words to me.”
I take more of him, letting him slip deeper inside me. Drawing a deep, shaky breath, I feel magnificently stretched and full with him. “What do you want from me?”
His neck arches and I want to lean forward to kiss it, but I know that he is off limits because his usually expressive eyes are giving nothing away. “You to look at me and see something other than convenient sex.”
He presses a palm to my belly, touching my pulsing clit with an agile thumb he began to massage it with slow and gentle, mind-blowing circles. My core is tightening and clenching, wringing away any doubts of us—of what we will probably never be. My hooded eyes grow heavy as I stare into his desire-hardened eyes. He grinds his teeth and the hold on my hips is tight, too tight. “If you can’t do that…” he warns. I don’t need him to finish to get the point.
I toss my head back in mindless, beautiful agony. “And you think to force me into an answer now?”
His beautiful face is relaxed, his voice is calm and patient. Inside, there is a storm brewing. A contradictory icy, burning storm. “Close your eyes.”
“Why?” I bite out.
“You don’t see me anyway.” He gives me a look. “Close them.”
I close my eyes. His overbearing hands are gripping my thighs, pulling my legs tighter around his waist, compelling me to take more of him as he pushes deeper inside me. Nibbling at my throat, he murmurs something against my neck in that sexy and rich voice of his.
“Hmm?” I moan back.
He licks at my neck, trailing his tongue along the contour of my collarbone. “I said,” he says between a grin that I can feel, “you are so sweet.”
“Oh?” I murmur, my eyes still closed. “How sweet?”
He reaches down and cups my butt in his hands, lifting me up into a grind of his skilled hips, once, twice. “I could eat you all day.”
He breaks our connection when he lifts me up and lays me on the bed. “God. Just fuck me already,” I beg, needing to feel connected to him in that primal way. “Please.”
“Michael,” he scoffs, sinking downward and nuzzling between my breasts where he mutters, “but I’ll let it slide this time.” He bites, marking the tender flesh with his teeth, making me squirm.
I gasp when his mouth covers my nipple and sucks at it with deep, drawing pulls that I can feel echoing in my clenching core, making me slicker for him. He moves to my other breast and I arch into him, abandoning all awareness of everything but the mesmeric feel of his mouth exploring, his tongue tasting at my navel, sliding lower. He opens my legs and pauses. I still in anticipation, my nerves are tightly strung together, waiting to be plucked one by one.
“Beautiful,” he purrs with red-blooded pride, the tip of his finger is now encircling my cleft. “And all mine. Understood?”
My hands pull at my own messy hair. I am his to possess. I understand. “Yes. God. Yes.”
He pulls my legs over his shoulders and licks between my folds, planting promising and tender licks against my too-sensitive flesh. I am coming apart. My hands abandon my hair and seek refuge in the silk sheet, my chest swells when he circles my clit with the tip of his deft tongue, prodding at the hypersensitive nerves. I cry and gasp and my hips are restless. I want more, but I would be unable to sustain from combusting with too much pleasure if he gave me more.
The raw bundle of nerves is wringing and clawing, coaxing me to come.
His tongue flits over my clit again, barely touching me, but giving me everything. “More. Please,” I beg. I want more.
“Be patient.”
He tortures me with his teasing. He beckons me all the way to Heaven’s edge, then drags me back down to Earth. Again and again and again. His tongue is greedy and clever, paying special attention to the knot of hypersensitive nerves until I am nothing but a tangle of nerves waiting to explode and my skin is misty with sweat. “Make me come. Please.”
“Patience…I’ll give you what you need,” he purrs.
The soft, shallow plunges against my swollen, aching clit is setting me on fire and driving me mad with the single-minded need to come. “Please, Michael.”
“Shh…” he whispers against me, hotly, spreading warmth to my center in that raw, hungry voice that I am obsessed with.
He pulls me closer, luring me onto his working mouth, thrusting his tongue further inside me. He is worshipping and appreciating my body as his tongue flits and flutters over my electric bud. He is taking as much pleasure from this as I am.
“Fuck,” I hiss, feeling the charge of electricity building up in my center, rising like a tsunami about to drown me in its hold.
His mouth circles my clit, sucking with a raw, animal hunger that could only be satiated by the taste of me. He hallows his cheeks and sucks with an ebb and flow rhythm that is being echoed in the pit of my core with my clawing orgasm.
Everything tenses, viciously clawing and tearing through me, then releases with a crashing orgasm that swells and collides into me, warmly spreading over and through me in a paralyzing, violent surge of pleasure. His deep groans vibrate against my soft, swollen flesh, provoking my climax to flow on and on. I feel a lump in my throat and the corners of my eyes burn where salty tears trail down my face.
I feel him rubbing at my fallen tears, dabbing away the evidence of my intense pleasure. “Now, open your eyes and see me.”
I open my eyes and see the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen between my open legs, his eyes hooded and full of lust. “Hi.”
Like a starving man he tongues the quivering entrance with the tip of his lush tongue, savoring at my pulsing clit until my skin is fevered like an erotic inferno. My limbs shake with the rush of another orgasm. He pushes two long fingers inside me, curling and stroking, seducing me to let go. I am so raw I thrash and push away from him. But he draws me back to his mouth where he sucks on my clenching clit with a tight cadence, making me whimper as I come again.
“I can’t,” I rasp, forcing air into my heaving lungs, “take anymore.”
“You can.” Now he is pushing a third finger inside, curving his finger into my tender spot. “And you will.”
I gasp. My legs will not still but he does not bother with them. He is possessed by desire.
“See.” He presses placating kisses over my plump flesh, dragging his tongue over my overworked nerves. “Trust that I can always take care of you,” he softly whispers on my clit.
He works over a sensitive spot inside me, sending another orgasm tearing through me as violent and crushing in intensity as the others. I shake all over and my skin is drenched.
I curl my fingers around the sleek sheet, readying myself for him. “Fuck me.” I lick my dry lips. “I’m ready.”
He raises until he is face-to-face with me, on top, his hard cock presses into my belly. I release a moan in impatience, but then his mouth is covering mine, drinking in my sounds. I hold his hair, kissing him back with just as much fervor.
“Now,” I demand.
The head of his cock aligns with the slick, inviting part of me, and he pushes inside with the spirit of a man that would only be stalled if the world was ending, and really, that would be fine with either of us so long as this room stays. I moan and alter my body to welcome the delicious invasion of his hard cock.
His breath is harsh and hot, a cloud of warmth against my neck, and his fine, crafted body is trembling as he slides inside me, inch by magnificent inch. “You make me crazy, Nat. But you’re mine.”
I wrap my legs around his hips, accommodating him, needing him deeper. I feel the tight cords of muscles in his hard buttocks tense and release against my calves when he slides through my tightness.
“Make me yours.” My voice is shaky, but I am sure. “I only need you.”
He stills, staring down at me with dark eyes that are shaded by ecstasy. Raising a hand, he pushes through my hair, holding a bundle at the roots. He begins to move again in an unhurried, lazy tempo that he knows drives me crazy.
“I don’t care about anything else when I’m with you,” he murmurs against the sensitive spot between my ear and neck. “You know that?” He pulls my hair, bringing my face to his. “I don’t get anything done because I’m too busy fucking you, making you come over and over again,” he groans. “God, you don’t know what it does to me when I hear you begging for me, when you’re pulling on my hair. Makes me so fucking hard.”
“Michael,” I moan. My blood is so hot for him and he knows it. He’s provoking me, and it isn’t fair, but I take it because I know what’s coming makes it all worth it. The pulse of his voice is timed with every tantalizing roll of his hips.
He squeezes my heavy breasts in his hands, rolling my tender nipples between his thumb and index finger. When he tugs my nipples, my head lolls to the side, baring my neck to him. “I wish you could see yourself right now.”
“How do I look?” My nails glide over the skin of his damp back.
“I love you.” His eyes are cloudy with a storm of emotion and his voice is so hoarse that it is almost beyond recognition. “Make love with me.”
I swallow hard against my burning throat. “Oh Michael. You don’t mean that.” But the look in his eyes makes me want to believe him…
“I love you,” he says, nuzzling against my neck. “I’m in love with you, and I hate you for it.” His tongue traces the shell of my ear. “Damn you for being so perfect.” His tongue dips inside, and I rake my fingers across his back at the same time.
I narrow my gaze. “So I’m the bitch?”
“Indeed,” he growls.
I want to take the time and bask in his confession, in the reality where he loves me, but I can’t because he’s inside me, grinding into me, and my mind is too dotty to think about anything other than the way he feels.
I buck into his next thrust and lose my damn mind. He is the master of my body, aware of every one of my spots and he exploits them. He is stroking his cock inside me, rubbing over and over the raw bundle of nerves that tightens and quakes with thrill.
Grinding his hips, he screws into me, rolling against other spots. I make a throaty mewl, eager for him to sink deeper inside, craving all of him. I wiggle into him, wanting him to drive inside and pound into me.
“Not yet.” He exhales a long breath. “Let me take my time. Savor you.”
“Please.” The warm palms of my hands run from his back to the flexing muscles of his ass; I push my nails into the hard flesh, goading him to grind faster, thrust deeper.
Groaning, he sinks deeper inside the gripping depths of me, the friction of him plunging makes me shiver. He feels too good. My breath hitches. I clench around him, fitting his cock tighter inside me and then we lock eyes.
And I can’t help it. My words are leaving me, proclaiming things that I never wanted to speak aloud. “I do love you, Michael.”
“Don’t,” he rasps against my throat, licking it. “Please…”
He slides deeper, exploiting how slick I am, demanding my body to take him all the way to the root. His movements begin slow and indulgent, relishing in the pleasure our bodies are making. I feel every inch of him, feel the passion he is illustrating through his patience with me as if he never wants to exist outside me.
Yanking my hips upward to meet with his slow strokes, I encourage him to reach the end of me. He grunts in that primitive way that tells me he is close.
“Yes,” I cry out. “So fucking good.”
“Too good.” He pushes my thigh up, arching his hips to push even deeper, arrowing his cock to rub right against my aching core.
“Michael!”
“I’m going to come again. I can’t help it.”
I whimper when everything inside me tightens, as the delicious friction swells by the deep rhythmic strokes. I am gasping and crazed. I grind my hips up to match his building tempo.
“Fuck. Nat.”
His guttural tone throws me over the edge. I choke out when the first intense wave slams into me. A plaintive sound escapes me when the orgasm overwhelms me, causing me to shake and my cunt clutches, wringing around his rock-hard dick.
He holds on until the clenching eases, his hot mouth is near my ear, I hear his teeth grinding between breaths that are ripped and ragged; he stirs inside me, fucking me into hysteria, rolling his hips and screwing the plain sense out of me.
“That’s right, Nat. Take my cock. Fuck.”
I squeeze around him, milking his cock. He makes a pained sound and curses in ways that make my ego swell and my cunt tighten. I feel him growing inside me, stretching me more. I welcome it.
He lifts his head from my neck and captures my gaze, the brilliant brown darkened with utter ecstasy. He convulses with a long driving thrust, his elegant body possessed by pleasure, he tosses his head back; shuddering, a tormented roar rips from his throat while his cock jerks inside me, coming long and hard, spurting hotly into me. He keeps pumping, filling me until semen wets my cunt and the inside of my thighs.
“I love you,” he says, still hard and thick inside me. “I’m going to show you how much. Over and over.”
“I love you, too.” I need him to believe me just as much as he wants to believe, if not more.
“All right.” But he looks doubtful.
I know that it’s going to take time, I’ll have to ease him into the idea that he is worthy of me loving him because I know that is the seed of the issue. I have nothing but time, an eternity if that’s what it takes.
“I love you so much, Michael Joe Jackson.” I roll us over. “And I’m gonna make you believe me.”
Reblogging for prosperity.