If I Were You(Inside Out 01)(42)

His hands are suddenly gone, and I pant in desperation, trying to pull them back.
Chris captures my hands and forces them back to the glass above me, his breath warm by my ear, his hard body framing mine. “Move them again and I’ll stop what I’m doing, no matter how good it might feel.”
I quiver inside at the erotic command, surprised again by how enticed I am by this game we are playing. “Just remember,” I warn, still panting, still burning for his touch. “Payback is Hell.”
His teeth scrape my shoulder. “Looking forward to it, baby,” he rasped. “More than you can possibly know.”



Chapter Fifteen

Description: butterfly

He unzips my skirt, sliding it down my hips. “Step,” he orders, and my sex clenches with the command.
Obediently, I step out of the clothing, and I am now stretched out across the window for him to do with me what he will, wearing only my panties, black thigh-highs and heels. The possibilities of exactly where this will lead are driving me wild. I have never been so turned on in my life, never so eager to be touched. It’s illogical. I have a deep dislike for being ordered around, despite a past some might say indicates otherwise, except it seems, when it’s by Chris. Deep down though, I know those journals call to me for reasons I prefer to ignore. Until this moment. Until Chris opened a door I’d left sealed.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice gravelly, laden with evident desire. His hands curve around my hips, his palms exploring my backside, tracking the silk line of my panties down my cheeks before trailing lower until he reaches between my thighs, grabs the cloth and rips them away. My lips part in surprise and I am panting. I arch forward and my nipples press to the cold glass, a bittersweet friction, part relief and part tease.
His palm flattens firmly onto my back, holding me in place, and oh God, the fingers of his other hand slide between my thighs, curving so that he cups my sex and strokes my clit at the same time.
“That’s it, baby,” he murmurs, widening my legs, teasing the sensitive, swollen flesh. “Hot and wet and ready for me. Just the way I want you.” His hand on my back caresses over my ribs and he moves to palm my breast, flicking my nipple.
I am still lost in sensory overload when his mouth presses to my neck, his breath a warm tickle, and his hands, oh his hands and fingers, are doing such delicious things to my clit and nipples that I am on the edge of something intensely wonderful and he’s not even undressed yet.
His teeth scrape my lobe and I feel it in my sex, where I want him. Where I am almost desperate to have him. “I’m going to lick you all over before this night is over, Sara,” he says in a seductive purr. “Suck your nipples until you are crazy with need, then spread you wide and lick you until you come and then, I’m going to do it all over again. I’m going to make sure you are so thoroughly f*cked that being f*cked has a new meaning.”
I moan with his words, with the boldness of this man, with the ease at which he can spin my world around and drive me wild. I am close to the sweet spot, moving against his hand, arching into his touch, when he shifts to my side and goes down on one knee.
He slides two fingers inside me, filling me, stretching me, as if he knew that is what I needed. A swell of need has me widening my legs, moving with the sweet rhythm of his strokes. I am panting and not quietly and I don’t care. Tension curls inside me and my orgasm comes in a hard spasm around his fingers that erupts into such pleasure my body jerks.
Chris wraps an arm around me, anchors me, and I am certain he is the only reason my knees do not give out. Time stands still as sensations ripple through my body, and Chris leads me to the other side of pleasure, his touch slowly turning more gentle. When finally my body relaxes, his tongue delicately strokes my hipbone, his cheek brushing against my skin with gentle, erotic friction that has my sex clenching all over again. I am breathless with his ability to be demanding and hard one moment, and tender the next.
“Don’t move,” he orders and pushes to his feet, framing my body with his again, his hands traveling up my back, his lips pressing to my ear. “I’m going to f*ck you now, Sara, hard and fast with you exactly as you are now,   and you’re going to stay right where you are and let me do it.”
“About damn time,” I hiss through my teeth.
A low rumble of his laughter fills the air, tingling a path from my ears and stirring sensations low in my belly. But I am not pleased when he shoves away from me, no longer touching me, almost as if he is defying me, teasing me on purpose. I am ready to turn, to take over, to make my own demands, but I believe his promise to stop whatever he is doing if I drop my hands.
Relief washes over me when I hear the rustle of clothing and the tear of paper — a condom I am certain. Soon. Soon he will be inside me. His hands come down on my hips and his shaft presses between my thighs. Deft fingers stroke through the wet heat of my body, preparing me when I was ready long ago.
“Please, Chris,” I moan, aching for fulfillment.
“Easy, baby,” he replies, and oh yes, I feel him press between my legs, thick and hard, and exactly what I need.
Still though, he holds back, teases me, sliding his erection up and down in the wet heat of my swollen flesh. He can’t want the way I do or he could not do this and I silently vow to amend that, and soon.
“Payback”-
He thrusts into me, hard and deep, burying himself to the hilt and moaning with the impact. I moan with him and gasp when he lifts my hips, finding a deeper spot. There is no time to revel in the fullness of him inside me, the completeness my body needs. He thrusts again and the wild, wicked hard pump of our bodies together erupts into a frenzied dance. His hands are all over me, his cock is inside me, filling me, stretching me. Pleasing me. In a remote part of my mind, I think of the glass, of the two of us shoving against it. Of the possibility of it breaking, but I don’t care. If I am going to die I want it to be with this man inside me.