Page 8 of Sheets & Giggles
“Seems that way,” he says, stepping further into his apartment. “But it seems mutually beneficial.”
Pro: he’s promising orgasms.
Taking a steadying breath, I pull my door closed again, and follow after him. I find him standing by his bookcase, pouring out two fingers of whisky from a drinks trolley.
“I’m sorry that I woke you,” I say, taking the glass he offers me.
He grins. “This is the kind of thing a guy likes to wake up to, I assure you.”
“OK,” I say, lifting the glass to my lips and tasting the smoky liquid. “So, how do we do this?”
“How do you want to do this?” His eyes dance with amused interest as he lifts his glass and drinks.
“I’m not sure,” I whisper. “I’m a little nervous.”
“Well, we don’t have to do anything tonight. We can just sit…and drink if you like,” he says, taking a seat on the single reading chair.
I swallow the lump in my throat, watching the way his knees angle out and his body curves into the creaking leather, showing me the shadow of a growing bulge that has my mouth watering and my insides clenching. I’m still a little shocked this fine specimen of a man wants dumpy ole me, but who am I to look a gift horse in the mouth? We only live once, right? And if I walk away from this moment, I’ll probably never pluck up the courage to do it again. So, it’s now or never.
“I don’t want to sit and drink,” I whisper, setting my glass on the coffee table as I move so I’m standing in front of him. He watches me like a lion watches its prey, and that alone turns me on. Then I lick my lips and place one hand on his bare shoulder, resting my knee on the chair beside him before bringing my other knee into the same position. “Is this OK?” I run my hands over the smooth skin of his chest as I straddle him.
He tilts up so I can feel just how OK he really is. “It’s more than OK.”
The hard length of his arousal causes my skin to heat, and I rock my hips lightly, delighting in the rumble that escapes his chest as his manhood jolts against my center. I let out a gasp, loving that he’s so turned on by me.
He grips my hips as I reach down and lift the hem of my tank top, pulling it over my head and dropping it to the floor, exposing my breasts to the night air.
Immediately his hand shifts to caress me, fingers pinching my pebbled nipple before he leans in and sucks it into his mouth. I moan and wrap my arms around his head, holding him to me as his tongue laves and his fingers tweak.
“That feels so good,” I moan as he moves to the other side, evening out his attentions.
He grinds himself against me. “You’re telling me.”
“Is kissing allowed?” I gasp, my lips burning to feel his.
Lifting his head, he slides his free hand into the back of my hair, pulling me closer. “Kissing is allowed,” he whispers, his voice rough as he presses his mouth to mine, the kiss deep and strong. Lips sucking, tongue exploring and sliding, dominating my mouth with each stroke.
When he pulls back for some much-needed air, he tugs on my hair, angling my head so he has access to my neck. His teeth slide along my jaw, down until his tongue laves against my pulse point, his teeth nipping me lightly as I moan and lose myself to the sensation, rocking my hips against his hard girth.
The pressure between my legs feels like heaven as his mouth and fingers explore my chest. He kneads, pinches and sucks, sending me into a pelvis grinding frenzy.
Releasing my hair, his hand slides down my back, fingers finding my spine and trailing featherlight touches to the top of my ass. He slips his hand beneath the elastic waist of my pajama shorts, and I let out a whimper, wanting so much more from him than simple touches.
“I want you naked and in my bed,” he rasps, sucking my bottom lip into his mouth.
Pro: he wants me naked and in his bed.
I smile. “OK.”
Wrapping his arms around my body, he stands with zero effort, carrying me to his bedroom while making me feel light and dainty, which is no mean feat for a girl my size.
“We’ll just get rid of these pesky things,” he says, whipping off my pj shorts the moment he lies me on his bed. Then he holds himself above me, his eyes locked on mine as he presses two fingers into my entrance.
“Oh!” I moan and whimper for more of him, lifting my hips to meet the depth of his movement.
“So fucking wet,” he murmurs, dragging his teeth and tongue along the edge of my jaw. “So fucking tight.” He brings his mouth to mine as he curls his fingers inside me, massaging my g-spot with expert precision. When he adds a wall-stretching third, I whimper into his mouth.
“Oh, god!”
