“Take off your shorts,” he told me softly, eyes on my large, trembling breasts. “And come here.”
I tried to do both at the same time, fumbling at the button of my cutoffs and moving to stand between his sprawling legs.
With a moan he started sucking at one of my nipples, his hands going to help me.
“I’m not ready to go all the way,” I told him breathlessly. I didn’t want him to think I was a tease.
Well, at least not a tease that wasn’t being honest with him.
“I know, angel,” he said with his lips still on me. “I just want to touch you, okay? I want to take care of you like you took care of me.”
I moaned and wiggled out of my shorts, but I left my panties on because I couldn’t imagine getting naked in front of him just like that.
He left them on, his fingers playing with my sex first over the material, and then he was pulling it aside and pushing into me.
I gasped. It was such a shocking sensation that I couldn’t imagine ever getting used to it.
He didn’t seem to notice my reluctance, his whole being concentrated on feeling me with his fingers.
“Jesus, you’re so wet,” he groaned into my chest.
My knees were going weak as what he was doing to me started an ache inside of me that I didn’t know how to relieve.
“I want to lie down,” I told him.
He moaned and I crawled onto the bed. When I was on my back, he started pulling down my panties.
I stopped him, I don’t even know why, instinctually, I suppose, but he just paused, bent, and started sucking on my nipple, then began to pull them down again.
When he had me completely naked, he sat up at my hip and started playing with me again, his eyes intent on what he was doing.
I squirmed. I needed something, I wasn’t sure what, but he wasn’t doing it. He was jerking his finger in and out of me, his breath ragged, his eyes looking like he was about to lose it again.
“It’s too much,” I told him. “The pressure’s too much.”
His hand froze. “What should I do?” he asked, looking as lost as I was.
“It just . . . hurts. Your finger’s too big.”
He looked horrified. “My finger’s too big?”
I thought about this. “That’s never going to fit inside of me.”
Something happened to his face, it fell and lifted as a shudder wracked through him. “Jesus.” He pulled his finger out of me with a curse. “Fuck. I need to go to the bathroom again.”
I sat up and stayed him with my hand. “Don’t. Stay here. I want to see.”
“I don’t want to freak you out.”
“Do you do that every time after we . . . make out and stuff?”
His mouth twisted into a sheepish smile, and he couldn’t look me in the eye. “Every time. At least once. Hell, at least twice.”
My eyes widened. “How long’s that been going on?”
“You don’t even want to know.”
I kind of did, but I dropped it as his hands went to the button of his pants.
“What should I do?” I asked him as he rose and shed his jeans.
He tilted his head down to give me an amused look. “Honestly? You could do anything and it’d work for me. Just sit there and watch me if you want.”
I shook my head. He wasn’t getting it. “I want to do it. I want to get you off myself.”
His eyes closed and his head fell back. “Jesus. You’re going to kill me today, aren’t you?”
I grinned. It was like nothing else, the power I felt at how desperately he wanted me.
I lay back down on my back and feeling daring I spread my legs apart. “Come lay on top of me,” I told him breathlessly. “We can feel each other while I . . .“
“Jack me off,” he said gruffly, climbing between my legs. “Say it.”
“Jack you off.” He went a little wild kissing me for that.
He had to get up briefly to grab lotion, and we got a little carried away.
It started with my hand, but as our bodies rubbed together his tip was brushing against my sex, then pushing at it. I moved him with my hand so he could rub along me without going in.
I would have let him go all the way, in fact a part of me desperately wanted it. Just wanted to say screw it and have each other completely.
But I didn’t. My grandmother had ingrained in me too deeply the fact that as soon as you gave yourself to a man he wouldn’t want you anymore.
And more than any other thing I needed in my life to survive, I needed Dante to want me. To crave me. To love and adore me.
I was obsessed with keeping him obsessed.
As we rubbed against each other, I found just the spot where the ache came from, and I took the softest part of his blunt tip and started rubbing it there in clumsy movements, then in little circles as I got the lay of it.
Dante didn’t last five seconds like that, his tip mashed up against my mound.
He came again with a rough curse and I loved it. Loved making him lose his control and his mind.
He was panting over me, his eyes on where we were touching. He braced himself with one fist on the mattress, the other going down to my hand on him. He was still coming as he fisted his cock and shifted it to my entrance. With a groan, he butted up against it.
I held my breath. If he’s going to do it, I decided, I’m not going to stop him.