Lovegame(46)

“I want you.”

It’s not an answer to the question I asked, but it’s enough for now. More than enough considering my willpower is in absolute ruins. My dick is throbbing with the need to make her come, my muscles burning from the restraint I’ve inflicted on them for so long.

I reward her honesty by slipping my hand inside her panties and sliding two fingers along her slit. She gasps, trembles, sighs, and I use my free hand to yank her tank top and sports bra over her head in one fell swoop. And then she’s naked in front of me save her tiny red lace panties and my mouth is watering, actually watering, with the need to lick and kiss and bite every inch of her smooth, perfect skin. I want it so much—want her so much—that for long seconds I’m paralyzed, unsure of where to start.

In the end, Veronica takes the choice from me as she cups a hand under one gorgeous, rose-tipped breast like an offering. It would take a stronger man than I to refuse, and I bend my head, pull her nipple into my mouth.

She moans at the first touch of my lips, arches her back. Her fingers come up to my hair, burrow in, tug and I bite down just hard enough to sting a little. At the same time, I pinch her clit between my thumb and forefinger and she goes off, her body clenching rhythmically around my fingers in an orgasm that I build higher and higher with each flick of my tongue, each stroke of my thumb.

When it’s over, when she’s come down just enough to release her killer grip on my hair and suck in a deep shuddering breath, I whirl her around, start walking her backward toward the bed on the other side of the room. But she only lets me take a few steps before she drops to her knees before me.

I’m unprepared for the move, and for how quickly she gets my belt unfastened. Then she’s undoing my top button, lowering my zipper. Tugging my pants down my hips as she presses hot, wet kisses to my abdomen and hip.

Her mouth feels good, so f*cking good, that there’s a part of me that wants to just let her have her way. Wants to let her do to me whatever she chooses. But I worked her hard with our game, pushed her even harder, and I want the rest of the night to be about her. About bringing her pleasure. About getting her off.

Somehow I find the strength to wrap my hands around her shoulders, to try to pull her up.

She’s having none of it, though, not this time. She might be floating in subspace, but that doesn’t preclude her need to give me pleasure. In fact, I’m pretty sure it enhances it as she fights me a little, pushing my hands off her shoulders and sliding my boxers down low enough to free my cock. Then she leans forward and takes me in her mouth.

I nearly lose it at the first stroke of Veronica’s tongue on the underside of my dick. My hands tangle in her miles of blond hair, my hips stutter forward of their own volition. This isn’t how I planned it, isn’t what I wanted for tonight—for her—but as she cups my ass in her hands, pulls me closer, deeper, I lose the ability to think about anything but how good her mouth feels on my cock and how hot she looks on her knees in front of me.

The wall opposite us is mirrored and I can’t help watching as she pulls me deep. Can’t help staring at the way her hair cascades down her naked back and her red lace panties bare the full, sexy curves of her lower ass. The only thing hotter is the way I can see her face at the same time, can see the way her cheeks flush and her jaw strains as she takes me in.

She looks so good, feels so f*cking good, that it’s all I can do to keep from blowing down her throat before things have a chance to really get started.

With that thought in mind, I tug on her hair, try to get her to pull back a little, but she refuses to yield. Instead, she sucks harder, swallowing me down until the head of my cock brushes the back of her throat.

“Fuck, Veronica. Baby.” I pull my hips back, try to make it easier for her, but she just follows me, head bobbing a little as she slides me in and out of her throat. At the same time, she runs her tongue along the bottom of my cock, stroking me again and again and again, until my eyes are crossing and my knees are weak.

And still I try to hold back, still I try not to slam my hips forward, try not to wreck her voice—try not to wreck her. But Veronica is having none of it. She uses one hand to keep me in place—to keep me deep as her throat works around me—and uses the other to stroke my balls, my taint. Add to that the way she moans, low and long and slow, and I’m lost.

Slamming my hips forward, I tighten my hands in her hair to hold her in place as I finally take what she’s been offering. What I’ve been dying for from the moment she first walked into that restaurant three days ago.

I f*ck her mouth hard and fast, take everything that she’s offering and demanding even more. Work my way into her mouth, her throat. Slam into her again and again and again, caught up in the way she looks, in the way she feels, in the way she makes me feel.

So good.

So. Fucking. Good.

My teeth clench, my jaw locks, and I lose myself for a minute—for several minutes—in the moist, sexy heat of her mouth. In the soft, desperate moans that come from deep in her throat and reverberate all along my dick. In the way her cherry-red lips form a perfect O as she takes me in, slides me back and forth, swallows me down, again and again and again.

She looks sexy, beautiful, as caught up in the moment as I am. But her eyes are closed, her long, golden lashes brushing against her cheeks, and suddenly I want nothing more than to see her eyes. To know that she’s enjoying this as much as I am.