Good Time(39)

But it’s his eyes when he looks at me that affect me the most. Like the breath is being sucked out of my lungs and the memory is being permanently imprinted on my brain. The bar is set for how a man should look at me when he’s touching me.

“Are you cold?” he asks when I shiver. He’s smoothing my hair over my shoulders. It’s wavy again today. Because it’s Monday—and because he said he liked it that way.

“No.” I shake my head back and forth. “I’m good.”

Then he dips his head to my breast and I’m anything but good. Frenzied would be a better word.

“Frenzied?” Vince questions. He asks it with a smirk, his lips a centimeter from my nipple. He’s cupping one breast in his hand while playing with the other with his teeth. Did I say ‘frenzied’ out loud? Jesus, what is even happening right now?

“‘Frenzied’ is a word that means ‘wildly excited,’” I gasp around a wet swipe of his tongue.

“I’m aware.”

His lips wrap around my nipple and my back arches as a groan leaves my mouth. His lips, oh, his lips. The scruff of his chin is abrading my sensitive skin, but then his lips are so soft and wet and perfect. The contrast is driving me mad but I never want it to stop. His tongue flicks against my nipple again and I’m wet and hot and needy, as if that tongue is working directly on my clit. I want to rub myself against him, I need to rub myself against him, but I can’t. Not in this position, with my legs spread over his, knees on the couch. I try though—I flex my hips, but with his lips wrapped around my tit I can’t sink low enough to grind myself against him.

It feels like every part of my body is thrumming and demanding attention. It feels like anywhere he touches me results in one long pang in my core. My earlobe, my elbow, it doesn’t matter. It all results in the same throb between my thighs. The desire to be filled and fucked by this man.

Then he moves, shifting me until I’m no longer astride him as he stands. Lifting me from the couch and carrying me to my bedroom. Laying me on my bed before sliding my pajama pants over my hips, past my knees and off my legs. I flex my toes while I watch him undress. He watches me watching him. His shoes come off first. They land on my bedroom floor with a satisfying thump, followed by his socks. I like seeing him like this, tieless, shirt askew, barefoot. This state of semi-undress is strangely erotic to me, but maybe it’s just Vince. Because I find him to be quite rousing in every state of dress that I’ve seen him.

Buckle, zipper, pants.

Buttons, shirt, boxers.

Finally.

The trail of condoms from yesterday are still lying on my dresser. He tosses one onto the bed then climbs over me. His cock weighs heavy on my stomach as he brackets my head with his hands. Then his lips are pressing against mine again. Soft perfect kisses, on my lips and the corners of my mouth. I snake a hand between us and wrap my fingers around him in a caress, an easy slide up and down the length of him, my thumb rubbing over the crown when I reach it, smoothing the pre-cum in a circular motion across the wide tip.

“I want to tell you something.” I say it softly, like a whisper because he’s so close, because it’s what the moment calls for.

“What’s that?” His eyes meet mine, flickering across my face as if he can read my thoughts simply by looking at me.

“I know we just met but”—I pause and take a breath—“I like you.”

He huffs the tiniest breath of air, like a whispered laugh. The lines around his eyes crinkle and his lips turn into the barest hint of a smile.

“I know.”

He kisses me again.

“You’ve been fairly obvious about it,” he adds with another press of his lips.

“It’s one of my best qualities,” I say. “I’m outgoing. I’m also spontaneous, but I’m not sure if that’s a strength or a weakness because it conflicts with both my decision-making and long-term planning skills, which are definitely weaknesses.”

He smiles wider this time. Another kiss. “It just so happens that I’m an excellent decision-maker and my long-term planning skills are top-notch.”

“You’d be surprised by how much you might have in common with someone completely opposite from you,” I offer.

“You’ve been a non-stop surprise, I’d agree.”

“Opposites attract,” I whisper.

“Payton.” He murmurs the word against my ear, his nose skimming the line of my jaw, his knee pushing between my own.

“Yes?”

“I like you too.” Then he kisses the side of my neck and rolls us over so I’m on top. “Straddle me,” he directs, tapping my thigh with his hand.

I grin, sitting up and sliding my knees up to bracket his hips. “I’m very flexible. It’s one of my strengths. Literally and physically.”

“Noted.” Vince rips open the condom and sheaths himself as I raise myself over him just enough for him to line us up and then I sink down.

Slowly, one inch at a time as I adjust to the stretch and the feeling of fullness. The depth and angle of the penetration. Vince’s eyes are glued to the spot where I’m stretched wide and he’s inside of me.

The staring makes me wetter.

He runs his palms up and down the tops of my thighs as I rise up and down on top of him. I don’t rock back and forth, so I’m not getting any friction on my clit, but I don’t care because the sensation of being filled by him is the sum total of everything I want in life at this moment. I squeeze my muscles around him as I rise up on my knees, feeling every inch of the drag of his cock inside of me. Then I relax and sink down.