His Sugar Baby(52)
Michael unzipped and levered himself out of his dress trousers. Briefly, he thought about going into the bedroom for a condom, but dismissed it. She was on the pill. They were in an exclusive relationship. They had done it before without a condom. He pulled her toward him and eased his straining shaft slowly past the strip of black lace into her *. He growled at how tight, how hot, she was. It was a delight not to have the thin layer of latex separating his flesh from hers. He began at a slow steady pace, his fingers wrapped round her hips, the bunched dress hiding his hands and cascading over his wrists. The edge of the thong rubbed the length of his rigid cock, rubbing a burn with every gliding stroke.
Bent over at the waist, her breasts swaying, Winter clenched the underside of the vanity with both hands. She kept her eyes open, watching him. A thrill went through her. He was magnificent. His ice-blue eyes were heated chips, contrasting with the dark flush that stained his cheekbones. The white dress shirt and dark trousers emphasized his trim physique. His lean hips moved steadily, powerfully, against her buttocks.
She could feel the familiar heat rise inside of her, and a fine sheen of sweat broke out on her pinkening skin. There was something incredibly erotic about seeing him reflected in the mirror, dressed for a night on the town, not an inch of skin showing, but feeling his hot thick shaft plowing deliberately into her, while his fingers were digging hard into her hips. His deep thrusting was measured, almost leisurely.
The heat was climbing, and she closed her eyes, reveling in it. Long before she was ready, he gave a protracted grunt and shoved hard. She could feel the spasms of his cock, the shuddering of his body, when he went rigid against her.
Winter opened her eyes as she felt him withdraw. Disappointment cut through her. Her body was vibrating, her nerves on edge. She straightened up, trying to regain her composure as she smoothed down her dress. His semen soaked through her thong and was wet on her inner thighs, and she realized then that he had not used a condom. She would have to clean up and change before they could leave.
She felt his hard hands slide under her dress, to grip her on either side of her waist. She scarcely had time to let out a little squeak before he had spun her around and lifted her up onto the granite counter. Her bare bottom felt the shock of the cold vanity top. Her breath hitched. Her dress was almost bunched up to her waist. Michael ripped the thong. Then his hands grasped her legs and pushed them wide apart. His strong fingers banded her thighs above the tops of her black thigh-high stockings. She stared at him, her heart hammering wildly. He smiled down at her, just for an instant, with the bad-ass smile. “Very naughty,” he murmured, his thumbs rubbing the tops of the stockings. Then he knelt, and his hot mouth fastened greedily on her flesh. Electricity sparked through her. She arched her back. “Oh, yes,” she hissed. She pushed her fingers tight into his thick hair. “Michael!”
He bit and sucked at her clit. His tongue flicked and pushed deep into her slit. Intolerable, molten heat began to burn inside her. Her thighs trembled. Under his ministrations, her hips involuntarily bucked, but he held her tight and never let up on his erotic assault.
She threw her head back, and her shoulders banged against the mirror behind her. Her shallow breathing shuddered through her lungs. A firestorm began to gain momentum. She instinctively tried to clench her legs together, but he held her splayed her apart. For several minutes he showed her no mercy while he tongued and sucked. Wave upon wave of delicious heat threatened to burn her alive. “Michael!” Her fingers writhed in his hair. She felt herself splintering, flying apart.
While she was still in the throes of the climax, he stood up and pulled her ankles up over his shirt-clad shoulders. His pulsing erection jutted out of his black pants. He lifted her buttocks in his palms, positioned himself, and penetrated her again.
Michael thrust hard and fast and long, panting with exertion. Avidly, he watched her face as he deliberately drove her up again, and this time, she screamed when she came. Spontaneously, he lost control. Michael grimaced. His eyes rolled back in his head. The pressure in his cock exploded, and he shook uncontrollably. It was exquisite, feeling her squeezing his shaft, feeling her shudder to completion in his locked arms. When she collapsed, limp and spent, he slumped with her, still cradling her silky-soft ass in his hands, still buried in her. His head rested beside hers against the mirror. His ragged breaths fogged the glass. Suddenly, he didn’t give a damn about going out. All he wanted was to be with her. “Come to bed and love me, Winter,” he whispered. “Please.”
She turned her head enough to brush her lips softly against his hot cheekbone. “I will,” she breathed.
They made love all night. Winter fell asleep safely wrapped in Michael’s arms. When they wakened in the morning and had showered and breakfasted, he said that he wanted to drive into town to do some shopping. He cocked a brow at her. “Come with me?”
Winter nodded. “All right, Michael.” Truthfully, she didn’t mind spending a little more time with him. All too soon, it would come to an end. She smiled. It was as good a way as any to spend a Saturday morning, and she had time before going to the hospital. At the thought of what was going to happen, she had to fight down her elation. That same afternoon, she was going to be taking her daughter home.
She had assumed that Michael wanted to go to the mall, but he surprised her. He drove downtown instead and parked in front of a discrete jewelry shop. Michael came round the front of the Porsche 911 to open the passenger door and extend a hand to help her out. She glanced at him quickly, but she didn’t dare ask him what they were doing at a jewelry store. She felt an inkling of apprehension.