Page 36 of Misconduct Zone

I climb onto the bed and straddle his thighs, taking his hot dick in my hand and hovering closely, inhaling minty mouthwash. “What’s the plan, put me out of my misery or tease me more?” His lips soften under mine, and he opens to deepen our kiss.

“Tell me what you fantasize about. Tell me how you want your first time.” His hands knead my ass cheeks.

“It will take weeks to work through my fantasies,” I quip. “Whatever’s best for you when you’re on the receiving end, let’s do that.” I want it all: to ride him, fuck him face to face, have him plow me from behind, holding me up by my throat. So many things to try.

“If you ride me,” he says, plucking the thought out of my head, “you can control the pace and depth. Or you can lie on your back and take what I give you.” My cock jumps at the second one. “On your back it is.” He flips me so fast it takes my breath away.

“I kinda like the idea of being at your mercy,” I say, and he growls. “You have a kinky side I can’t wait to get to know.” I buck my hips up, dying for more contact.

He doesn’t answer me but spreads my legs and hooks one over his shoulder to work me open with his mouth. My back bows as he exhales, warming my rim before lips ghost over my hole. He stiffens his tongue and drives his face between my cheeks. A whine for more scrapes out of me. I could come from his magical tongue alone, yet it’s not nearly enough. Craving his mouth, hands, and cock all at the same time.

He eats my ass as if he won’t get another chance. As if he’s mapping it out to remember for later. Watching something and experiencing it are not even close to the same thing. Like the difference between seeing a picture of the ocean and standing with your toes in the tide. One rouses interest, and the other stimulates all your senses and changes your perspective on the world. The only thing grounding me in his onslaught of pleasure are his hands and mouth. I miss the weight of him on me, but I need him in charge.

The flame in his eyes gets brighter with each of my moans.

My clever boyfriend stashed the lube and condoms under the pillow, and I need clarification right now.

“Sugar, are you my boyfriend?” The term of endearment slips out, and in my blissed-out state, I drag the word out, emphasizing the “sha” and rolling the R at the end. I love the way it rolls off my tongue and how his eyes dilate. I’m the only one who gets his sweet, sugary side.

“I hope so. Is that what you want?” He keeps his fingers inside me but leans over for a kiss. With Lars, I know he wants to be what I need him to be. When I say yes, his face lights up. “Then I am officially your boyfriend. I thought we decided this when we said we would be exclusive.” He kisses my ear.

“You implied it, but I had to hear you say the words.” I’m not sure why I’m insecure and needy when it comes to him.

We kiss as he works three fingers inside me and I’m panting. “I would like to fuck my boyfriend now.” He grins down at me.

“I’ve been waiting my entire life for this.” The words tumble out, but I don’t take them back or examine them too closely. Instead, I roll the condom down his length and guide him to my hole.

He angles himself so we can watch him enter me, and I exhale the air in my lungs. It stings, but slow isn’t an option, and I use my heels to press up and take him in farther. The pain anchors me to the reality of being with a man. My man. My best friend.

His strong hand guides my pelvis back to the bed. “Take it. Only what I give you.” A thrill travels throughout my body faster than a hundred-mile-an-hour slap shot.

“Watch until I bottom out.” His arms support his weight, allowing us the best view, and I bend my knees, bringing them up toward my waist. The fascination of my body engulfing him mitigates the pain. A giddy bubble of exhilaration forms as I watch in awe.

“Look at you sucking me in. Your greedy hole squeezing so tight, holding me in.” His words are audio porn, releasing endorphins all over the bed. His hips slide back and forth, only allowing his cock halfway in then retreating.

I tighten my inner muscles to test if I can hold him captive inside me. It doesn’t work, but it’s so damn good, the goodest good of all time kinda great. Lars pants and adjusts his position to give his wrists a break.

On his next thrust, he plunges three quarters of his length in. His head lifts, and he sucks my nipple with our eyes locked.

“I need to see your face when you take all of me.” He drives in, bottoming out, until his balls slap my cheeks. I’ve never been so full, yet so desperate for more.

My body buzzes urgently, anticipating what’s next. Not only has he opened my ass, but it’s as if he’s opened all of me. Flayed me wide for the onslaught of sensations. Stripped to the core, submitting to the rightness of us. This is who I’m meant to be with him, for him. Only him.

The candles create a vibe, but what I love is Lars’s scent of crisp linen and fresh air with an underlying sweetness. My sugar.

The Egyptian sheets caress my back. The music provides a thumping bass to match his slow pace. When he holds himself still, his fervent blue eyes assessing if I’m okay, I dissolve, puddling with an ache to conform into his exact match. Fill in his cracks and become what he’s been missing to make him whole. Make both of us whole together.

I can’t stop touching him everywhere I can reach. The short hair at the nape of his neck, the rounded deltoids of his shoulders. His smooth pecs and the very fine blond hairs trailing down the middle of his chest to the perfect V. My fingers dip into the grooves, then grip his hips.

All the while, he tunnels in and out of me, and I meet his thrusts, careful not to exert more force than him.

When I meet his eyes, he steals my breath. His reverence and devotion are written all over his face. All my life, I’ve hidden behind my smile, but not with him. It’s an overwhelming act to discard my happy mask and let my heart speak, spilling over my face. To tell him with all that I am, that I’m his and he’s what I want. The passion between us spins, creating a hurricane of emotions that decimate any doubts and wipes out everything so we can rebuild a new us on topof the old.

I feel cherished and adored while being plowed.

His usually stern face lights the room with contagious happiness. I’m not prepared for him to lift my ass off the bed so he strikes my prostate or his look of triumph. I’m suspended in a space where I never want this to end, yet I’m ready to succumb to the voracious pending orgasm.

“Hold on,” he demands, and for him, I’ll hold on forever. Hold off until he tells me to let go.

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