After Hours (InterMix)(31)

“Yeah.”

“Feel how bad I want you?”

He pressed roughly against me, a thrust that would’ve made us lovers if not for my last stitch of clothing. I answered with a little moan.

“You’re so wet,” he whispered. He rubbed my clit, letting his length tease my lips with the friction of wet cotton. I felt the flex of his hips as he thrust, muscle as hard as his dick. “I can’t wait to feel you.” His body sped at the suggestion, alongside my pulse. I hadn’t had many lovers, and none had ever been able to do this—to make me this crazed. Certainly not to make me come without instruction or assistance. But his fingers read me like Braille, and in no time at all I felt a second climax building against his touch.

Fuck, I wanted him. I wanted him above me, those strong hips spreading my thighs. I wanted to see him—his face and chest and cock as he took me. But not tonight. Not tonight.

“I’m gonna make you come,” he said. “Tell me.”

“You are.” Oh, he was. His bossy words alone had me close.

“I’m what?”

“You’re going to make me come.”

A smug hmmm at my ear, wet fingertips at my clit, hungry cock begging for entrance. He pulled my panties aside. I froze. But it was his fingers that taunted my folds, not his cock.

“So tempting,” he muttered.

Indeed. Just one bad decision and I’d be able to feel his hard flesh inside me.

“Someday you’ll give yourself to me,” he said matter-of-factly. “Let me have whatever I want, do whatever I say.”

It would’ve been a pretty pompous announcement if I hadn’t suspected it was completely true.

“I’ll have you pleading for my cock.” He pumped me with his fingers, hips mirroring the rhythm. “Can’t wait to hear you beg.” He let the crotch of my panties go, slipping his fingers back down the front to rub my clit again, erection taunting my swollen lips. I imagined him rolling me onto my stomach, taking me from above and behind at once.

I’d never wanted someone this way before, never wanted to be dominated. I’d always seen strong or pushy men as dangerous creatures to be kept at a distance. But with Kelly I wanted to see the beast set free to take what it wanted, exactly how it wanted it.

Behind me, he changed. His thrusts were for him now, designed for his pleasure and not mine. He was that thing I coveted most during sex, a man losing control. One second’s massive lapse and he could have me—slide his thick cock between my slick lips and prove himself a liar, and me a fool. Do it, I thought.

He moaned, a long, desperate, needy sound. His fingers abandoned my sex, a gruff hand angling my hips so his dick rubbed my clit with every thrust.

“Fuck.”

“That’s right,” he muttered. “That’s right. Lemme feel you come.”

The position triggered a stitch in my side and his fingertips dug hard into my hip, promising yet more bruises. But I felt my body obeying, the next orgasm drawing me tighter, hotter, closer and closer against his punishing cock. His chest pushed hard into my back, tilting me so I had to brace myself on my elbow. He was half on top of me now, but f*ck, he was hot.

I wrenched my neck to steal a glimpse of that mean, scarred-up face, and I was done. Those irises like ice, red-black blood and white stitches, lamplight making a golden halo of his hair. I turned back and shut my eyes tight, came against his cock, trembling, shuddering, moaning.

“Good, good, good,” I heard him muttering as I came down, a panting mantra set to the rhythm of his hips. “Fuck, here.” He grabbed my hand and forced it between my legs. I felt the smooth, wet crown of his cock for one thrust, two, then he jammed his body against mine, hot come filling my cupped palm. His breaths heated my neck in tight bursts, and I heard every tiny sound of his lips and tongue as he swallowed.

He pulled away. I scanned the floor, then wiped my hand on my tee shirt, sobering instantly. When I sat up I found Kelly stretched on his back, cock hidden by his underwear once more. I hadn’t even gotten a look at it.

“Well,” I said.

“Well.”

I cleared my throat and smoothed my wild hair, and hoped I sounded casual. “Guess you do get what you want, after all. I stand corrected.”

He didn’t reply, just shut his eyes and smiled some mysterious little Kelly smile. I studied his body in the warm, low light, watched this confounding, gorgeous, frightening animal resting on my covers.