Shimmy Bang Sparkle(15)
“You’ve got the right to at least three orgasms,” I said. “Those will be provided for you.”
“Oh Lord,” she groaned.
“Do you understand your rights?” I tugged on her panties and let the lace go with a snap. I gave her throat a bite. Gentle, but firm. She inhaled hard, surprised and startled. Off balance. “Yes, sir.”
“Good girl.” I stopped the frisk and stepped back. She turned and looked up at me, and I kissed her until she was against the stucco wall. And then I took her hand in mine and led her up to my place.
I scooped her up onto the kitchen counter and kissed the shit out of her, kissed her so hard that she had to hang on to the paper towel rod for support. Sometimes she let me overpower her; she’d let me show the way. But as fast as I’d taken over, she’d take over from me, getting grabby and greedy and digging her fingers into wherever she happened to be touching me as she sank in deep. I’d take over again, then she would. I’d bite her lip, she’d nip my tongue. Back and forth. Offense and defense. Her and me. As I kissed her, I hoped she fucked the way she kissed.
“If I didn’t want to fuck you so bad, I’d kiss you all goddamned night.” I dragged her closer with my palms on her ass.
“If I didn’t want you to fuck me so bad, I’d say that was just fine,” she answered.
Holy shit. All that sweetness was falling away, and something else was showing in the center. The fire in her eyes was raw desire. She knew what she wanted, and I was going to take her there.
So I kissed her until she was grinding against me as hard as I was grinding against her. As we kissed, she toed off her sneakers and kicked them aside. I anchored the heel of one of my boots under the toe and moved to pull it off. But she stopped kissing me and pushed me away hard. Hard enough to make me back away from her, so I was standing in the middle of the kitchen, two feet away from her now. We were like two boxers, stepping back before squaring up again. I wiped my mouth on my sleeve. She slid off the counter so she was standing barefoot in front of the sink, with her jeans unbuttoned and her T-shirt off one shoulder. Automatically I reached for her, but she flipped the tables on me, and before I knew it, I was the one leaning against the counter, with the fake granite edge digging into my ass.
Without breaking my stare, she lowered herself down in front of me, clawing the outside of my jeans with her fingernails, hard enough for me to feel the scratches on my thighs. Down, down, down she went. Until she was on her knees at my feet.
“Fuck, Stella . . .”
I held her hair back from her face to get a better view of that fresh pink rosiness of her cheeks that was getting more and more intense with every passing second.
She bit the front of my belt, working the leather slowly free from the buckle. She did it so deliberately, so carefully, that it made my balls ache. The leather end slid out from my belt loops, and she sat back on her heels. She took the buckle in her mouth to get my belt undone all the way. It clattered, the metal against her teeth, like a horse taking a bit.
Every single fiber in my body wanted to pick her up and haul her fireman style into the bedroom. I wanted to drop her on the bed and ravage her. I wanted to get her on her knees in front of me and give her everything I had. I wanted to get her underneath me and growl about how beautiful she was as she came. Because I knew no matter how she came, there was no question that she’d be perfection when she was lost.
The ferocity in her eyes told me she wouldn’t whimper, because lionesses don’t. Lionesses roar, and I wanted to be the one to unleash her like she’d never been unleashed before. I wanted to fuck her until the neighbors complained. I wanted to drive into her until she begged me to stop. Until it felt so good she told me to wait, wait, wait.
But when I started to pull her up, she grabbed my hands to stop me. She leaned in again, taking the edge of the buttonhole of my jeans between her teeth. She freed the fabric from the metal fastener and looked up at me. “This is how it’s gonna be . . .” she said, with her chin against my fly. Her voice was like mine had been when I told her the same thing. I could tell, by the look in her eyes and the grit in her tone, she wasn’t fucking playing. Neither was I. I didn’t want to play with her. I wanted to undo her completely.
I swallowed hard and watched her. My heart pounded in my chest, in my throat. In my cock. Everywhere. Because goddamn did I need this. “You. Me. Bed. Right fucking now.”
She nuzzled a no into my hard-on from outside my pants. Her eyes fluttered shut as she increased the pressure, driving her cheekbone into the sensitive underside, compressing the shaft and pressing against my balls with her chin. Using her tongue, she traced around the outline of my cock, paying special attention to the ridge and the head.
Looking up again, she kept her eyes right on mine, as if to make sure I was watching. She licked her lips. She opened her mouth, and then she took my pants-clad shaft between her teeth and very lightly . . .
. . . bit down on my cock.
Holy mother of fucks.
The rush of need for her was so intense I almost threw her off me. No woman had ever been so ballsy as this. The desire in that bite was louder than ten thousand pleases. It felt incredible. Her teeth put the right pressure in all the right places, doing exactly the thing I never knew I needed. “Goddamn it,” I growled, and let my head fall back so I was looking up at the ceiling.
She did it again, lower down the shaft. It sent a surge of fire through my spine, a need so furious it felt almost like anger. Again and again she bit me, again and again she made me growl, until all up and down my cock were rows of wet bite marks, half moons on my pants. “I need to get inside you, Stella. Don’t make me wait.” She didn’t answer with words; instead, she took the metal zipper between her teeth and lowered her chin to undo my fly.