Messy Love(31)

“Nah, sweet thing. You don’t get to touch me until you give me your first orgasm.’’ His words flashed through the fog of lust. I pushed myself back into his front and tilted my head to the side to draw his attention back to my skin. I had never heard a man talking like this, and I would have never thought it’d make my whole body tremble with an excitation bordering on pain as I ached for him, clenching painfully and missing his fingers on me, in me. “Now, open your legs more.’’

I slid my feet farther apart and stopped breathing when his hand went back in my panties. Only when his fingers touched my clit did I started breathing again, panting loudly in the quiet room. Pleasure quickly mounted again, making me breathe faster and faster in rhythm with the waves of pleasure hitting me, crashing all over me until my skin burned up and my blood ran fast through my veins, bringing every cell alive.

I undulated against him, urging him to tighten his grip on me until I knew I’d feel his touch on my breast long after it was all over. I whimpered and mumbled something that sounded a lot like ‘more,’ but I didn’t know anymore. All I knew concentrated on what I felt, his touch and the orgasm gaining in on me.

“You like my touch, Marissa?’’ I nodded and closed my hands into tight fists when the need to feel him hit me again. “Yeah, I feel it. You’re clenching my fingers so much… And the sounds you make. Fuck, I can’t wait to feel you around my cock.’’ His rumbling voice, so low and tight from lust brought me higher. I moaned louder, unable to keep my mouth closed or the sounds quiet anymore.

He nibbled on the crook of my neck, tracing with his tongue a wet path to my shoulder. And he bit me. It was harsh as he was, it was carnal as what he made me, and it was too much for me.

I gasped, tensed and bowed under the most intense orgasm I had ever experimented. The room disappeared, and it was like pure light invaded my seared up body, rendering me a mess of sweat, loud pants and begging moans for always more. My head was thrown back against his broad chest. My whole body arched up, trembling again and again under the waves of pleasure. And he didn’t stop the movements of his fingers in and out of me, drawing out every last remnants and echo of my orgasm until I closed my legs and tightened my thighs around his thick wrist to stop him.

“I can’t. Too much,’’ I whispered on a broken moan, my hands now gripping his tattooed forearm.

“Going beyond your limits is when things get good, sweet thing.’’ He ran his nose along my jawline again and took a step back, removing his hands from my body and his heat from mine. I swayed without his support to stay standing on my shaky legs, and I shivered when his warmth didn’t envelop me anymore. I was left alone in my underwear with a coat of sweat cooling on my flesh.

But when the sound of clothes hitting the floor came to my ears, I glanced over my shoulder and what I saw had my stomach tightening all over again, the first sign of another bout of lust coming.

He had taken off his shirt and was now about to unbutton his jeans. His hands were on the button of his pants. It mesmerized me how the muscles in his arms played, but also his pecs and his broad shoulders seemingly broader without anything covering them. I now knew his tatts ended at the juncture where his arms met his shoulders, apparently to fade away as if something had tried to erase them like you’d do a doodle. It’s beautiful and complimented him, making me want to examine his body more carefully until I had my fill of him. But I didn’t move closer, I only turned around to face him and watched.

When the button popped open, he locked eyes with me. In his gaze, I only perceived lust, something dark and thrilling, something you couldn’t escape even if you tried. And I wouldn’t try.

His pecs flexed along with the muscles in his arms as his abs tensed when he pushed the zipper down. I had my first glimpse of his black Calvin Klein’s molding his hard cock so well I had no words left.

He hooked his fingers into the waistband and pushed his jeans down his firm thighs until it fell at his feet. It didn’t take him long to toe off his Converse, socks and discard his jeans. Both standing in front of each other in underwear, it was intimidating and exciting, so much that I didn’t know what I should be doing first, where I wanted to start touching him. I ached to explore his body, each muscle playing under his flesh at a time.

Mostly, I needed him to touch me until I forgot my name once again.

He didn’t let me question myself too long, though. After a full minute of staring at my body, he shook his head and stalked toward me. In three steps he’s in front of me, looking down at my upturned face. His dark eyes had stopped on my parted lips before he fixed me. His lips turned slightly up, and I briefly wondered if maybe he had a dimple or two under that thick scruff of his.

“Didn’t you want to touch me, sweet thing?’’

His collarbone was just in front of me, so close that if I took a deeper breath, I would smell the faint smell I would now always associate with him, a mix of musk, pepper, and ginger.

I bit my lip and brought a hand to his chest. Under my palm I sensed his heart beating loud and fast, betraying his appearance of calm. It made me want to shower his broad chest in kisses, but first I had to glide my fingers over his soft skin and feel his muscles, the way the sparse hair leading down to his navel was coarse under the pads of my fingers. So, I did just that and watched his face.

His lips parted to let out a hiss as his nostrils and eyes flared. I knew he was stopping himself from touching me, attacking me without control. He wanted to show me he was the one leading this show, but it was a fa?ade, and we both knew it.