Page 119 of First Chance

“No,” he says quickly. “Stay put.”

His rough palms massage my cheeks, spreading me wide down there, opening me up and exposing me in a way that I’ve never experienced before.

It isn’t until he rocks the flesh of my hips ever so lightly that I realize how close I am to his hardness. The bulge of his jeans rubs against my pussy softly and he grunts at the faint contact. He sounds like an animal in pain.

His hands rock my hips again, but this time I linger a second longer, prolonging the feeling of his erection against me. He blows out a curt breath, squeezing his eyes shut as if he can escape the feeling.

My fingers find my favorite place on the back of his neck, tangling into the curls there, and I rock my hips again, watching the pain and pleasure morph his face.

It’s exhilarating.

This time when my ass rocks back, I grind into him, rubbing myself over his stiff zipper.

“Don’t. It won’t– You shouldn’t…” He clears his throat to attempt to speak again. “My jeans will hurt you, don’t rub against them,” he forces out, very reluctantly.

“Take them off.”

His eyes pop open. “I can’t.” The restraint is misery on his face, he’s struggling terribly.

“I won’t do anything naughty.”

“God, please. Don’t say that. Don’t use that word,” he strangles through his throat.

I’ll addnaughtyto my list of words to use again.

“Let me grind against your boxers. It’s not as rough and it’ll make me feel good.”

He growls harshly, yanking his jeans down and kicking them off the end of the bed, and then he reaches into hisnightstand and grabs a bottle.

“You have lube?”

“Jacking off to you morning and night was going to cause an injury,” he states seriously, and I have to bite my lip to keep from smiling. He pours some of the liquid onto his fingers and cups my pussy, rubbing gently until I’m grinding against his hand because it feels so good.

“This isn’t what I wanted,” I say distractedly.

“Then stop fucking my hand, baby.”

“But it feels good.”

“Of course, it does. I was made to make you cum,” he grits out, tweaking his fingers to rub against my clit. I’m already so wound up that a few seconds of that is all it takes to make me jerk my hips as I orgasm. Again.

I should feel bad about this unfair treatment, buthe’sthe one holding out on me.

“Maybe I should leave you alone now,” I say to the ceiling, still coming down from my climax. My slick pussy is sitting directly on his stomach but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“Do you want to stop?”

“No, but…”

“Then sit on my cock and give yourself another one,” he demands and I smile, looking down at him.

He’s so tensed, he has a bead of sweat on his forehead, and I’m soaring.

“On your cock, you said?” I sit up and shuffle my knees back until I’m hovering over his boxers. It isn’t until my fingers grip his waistband that he jolts up from the mattress.

“That’s not part of the deal,” he warns, gripping my wrists delicately.

“But, you’re my fiancé. I should know what you look like.”His pupils dilate at my words, but he doesn’t release me. “I just want to know how it feels to ride you, I won’t try to put it inside of me, I promise.” I place my forehead on his and push it gently until he releases me, and he falls back to his pillow.

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