Page 77 of Play With Me
We stare at one another for a long, charged second before he’s in my arms. I lift him up, my palms cupping his ass, his ankles linking around my lower back. I walk us to the bed, wanting him stripped naked, wanting his cock on display.
For my consumption only. No one else’s.
I’ve been waiting for this.
“What movie do you want to watch?” he asks me between kisses.
“How about, did you fuck anyone this weekend?” I ask, lowering him to the mattress and staring down at him.
He blinks up at me and shakes his head. “I would never.”
I can’t help but lean down, covering his body with mine as he arches up and his tongue pushes into my mouth. He tastes so right, so perfect, and I just melt into him. He’s hard beneath me, his muscles flexing, his skin warm where I can touch it.
He grinds upward, his hands clasping mine, almost desperately. I don’t want to hurt him, his eye still black and blue, his lip still cut, but it doesn’t stop him. He just seems more eager, more determined to get what he wants.
And what he wants is me.
My hands fist the sheets beside his head as I piston my hips back and forth.
“I want to fuck you,” he whispers, licking his way up my neck. I fall against him, feeling his heart pounding against my own. Frantic. Wild. “But if you want to wait. I can wait.”
My ass clenches around nothing, feeling the absence of him.
I want him inside of me, but maybe we should slow this down. Maybe we should wait. We’ve moved so fast since the first day he touched me.
His hand drags down my spine and cups my bare ass, his finger trailing down my crack, seeking entrance. The feel of him pressing against me makes all thoughts of going slow rush out the window.
“Fuck. I don’t have any lube,” I moan when he presses against my hole.
“You used it all?” he asks with a small laugh and then rolls us over until he’s straddling me.
“Yeah, seems I needed a bigger bottle. You really skimped there, dickhead.”
His lips curl up, and he lets out a laugh. “Of course I did. You’re a horny little slut. I had no idea. How often do you get yourself off to thoughts of me?”
That makes me blush as he shuffles up between my spread legs and pushes my knees up to my chest.
“Come on, tell me. Nothing you could say would make me less turned on.”
He says that as he grabs onto his hard cock and groans.
“Not that much.”
“But enough to go through a bottle of lube in a week.”
I wet my lips, eyeing his dick. “Fuck off.”
He stares down at me, eyes twinkling. “Don’t worry, babe. I’m gonna send a text. I’ll get that lube, lots of it, and while we wait, I’m gonna eat your ass. Make you nice and wet.”
He grabs his phone, his fingers flying across the screen before he throws it to the side.
“Twenty minutes before it gets here, Witkoff. Then your ass is mine. But for now, you get what you get. And you don’t throw a fit.”
The thought of his face between my legs, his tongue inside of me, has my hips arching up.
“I’m not gonna throw a fucking fit. I’m not a child.”
“Mm, but you whine like you’re throwing a tantrum. All because you don’t get what you want when you want it.”
