Captured(61)

The stairs are hurting my ass. I slide my arm under Reagan’s legs and stand up with her. I carry her into her bedroom. Lay her on the bed, move in beside her. Somehow, she’s on top of me, and she’s kissing me. I taste salt, and I know she does, too, on my lips. We’re kissing and crying, both us. Her breath in my mouth and on my lips and her tongue sweeping over mine steals my tears, my breath, everything but my awareness of her.

Hands push and pull at clothes. Skin emerges slowly. Kisses merge into kisses. I’ve got her breast in my mouth as she straddles me, her hands planted on my chest, head tilted back, spine arched to push her nipple against my lips. Her hips writhe, but I’m still wearing my jeans, and so is she. She’s grinding on me, and we’re both breathing in rasping gasps. She moves away, tugging her nipple from my mouth with a pop, jerks open my fly, and pulls down my jeans, traveling down my body, mouth touching my stomach, navel, hip bone, thigh, knee. She gets stuck at my boots, glances up at me in amused frustration, fumbles with the laces. She reaches up with one hand and palms my cock, strokes me, then returns her attention to removing my boots. As soon as she has the laces loosened, I kick them off and she’s ripping at my socks, pulling my jeans off over my feet. Tossing them to the floor, then diving after them, snagging them up. Pulls the string of condoms from the hip pocket. Rips one free. Stands up, facing me, shucking her jeans in record time. Those panties, god. Dark red silk. Cut high up over her hips, the silk making a deep “V” to cup her *. The silk is damp over her opening, darkened with moisture.

Eyes locked on me, she hooks her thumbs in the elastic waistband, pushes them down, steps out. Her palms smooth over her belly, as if she’s contemplating covering herself, but she doesn’t. She just stands there, hands at her sides, chin high, hair loose and tangled, a bit of grass in it, unnoticed. She’s owning her body, owning her beauty. And f*ck it’s hot, watching her deny the insecurity, watching her claim her self-identify as sexy, powerful. She pops one hip out, lifts her chin a bit more, tongue-tip licking her lip, and then her hand hovers over her thigh. Palms the flesh there, then dives into the slight gap between her legs. Gasps as she drags her fingers up between her thighs, touching herself. One brief circling touch, and her knees buckle and she whimpers. I sit up, swing my legs off the bed, reach for her. Grab her hand and pull her close, position her between my legs. Lean in and flick her nipple with my tongue.

Trace the opening of her * with my fingers. “Open up,” I say.

She shuffles her feet to either side until they’re shoulder-width apart. She rests her hands on my shoulders as I delve up into her with two fingers. So wet, so hot, so tight. I groan and lave my tongue between her breasts, gathering the wetness of her arousal on my fingers and smear it over her clit. She falls forward against me, grasps my cheeks, and lifts my face up for a kiss. But the kiss stutters and fades as she moans with my ministrations, her mouth hanging open against mine, forehead to forehead, gripping my jaw with both hands and groaning.

No games this time. Bring her to climax as fast as possible, circling her clit and delving into her tight channel in an alternating pattern. She shrieks as she comes, leaning into me, riding my fingers, knees dipping, hips gyrating.

When the climax fades to shudders, she opens her eyes, and her usually clear blue eyes are clouded, hooded. She pushes at me, shoves me forcefully to the mattress, climbs up on me. She finds the condom, rips it open. Rolls it onto me. I’m in an awkward position, lying back on the bed with my feet on the floor, but Reagan isn’t waiting, isn’t going to let me adjust. She leans over me, palms on my chest, kisses me and raises her ass. I gasp into her mouth as she reaches between us, guides me to her opening, and sits on me. Impales herself on me, letting out a growling moan as I fill her.

Reagan’s eyes are feral, her mouth open, lip curled, low groans escaping as she grinds her ass against my hips, rolling my cock inside her, moving in circles and then side to side, getting me deeper. She gets her knees under herself, spreads her thighs wide, and holy f*ck, am I deep inside her. Her fingers are clawed into my chest, raking my pecs. She bites her lips and stares down at me, grinds on me. Side to side. Side to side, working me in and in until I’m as deep as I can physically get, and then she starts moving in circles, around and around, stretching her abdomen to widen the circle her hips circumscribe. The circling grind has me wanting to thrust, but she’s pressing down so hard I can’t — all I can do is let her have her way with me.

And then she abruptly lifts up, raising her ass off my hips, hesitating at the apex, the tip of me just barely inside her. Slams down so hard our hips crash together.

“Fuck…yes….” she growls.

She lifts up slowly this time. The feel of her labia sliding slick along my cock drives me wild, has me trying to thrust up, but she pulls away, shakes her head.

“Unh-uh.” She hovers like that, teasing us both. “Not yet.”

Reagan flutters her hips, biting her tongue and lower lip, f*cking just the tip of my cock in quick rolling thrusts.

I’m groaning and cursing. “Fuck, f*ck. Oh, god, Reagan, god. Give it to me.” I grip her hips and hold on, try to pull her down, but I can’t. She resists, leaning forward and continuing the small shallow f*cks.

“You want it?” she demands.

“Yeah.” I pull at her again. “I need it.”

“What do you need?” Slower, shallower, the head of my cock held delicately between her labia, thighs flexing to slide me a quarter-inch in, then out again. Tantalizing.