Voyeur - Lacey Alexander [32]
His hands slid to her breasts, his thumbs brushing across her beaded nipples. “What’s that, honey?”
“Are you going to fuck the conservatism right out of me?”
A naughty grin accompanied the lecherous sparkle of his eyes. “Oh yeah, baby.”
He plunged into her harder then, making her cry out with each firm thrust. She lifted her hands over her head, pressing them to the large wooden headboard for leverage. Her body was growing more used to him—less overwhelmed, allowing her to sink deeper into pure pleasure. Not only the physical pleasure of having him inside her, but the mental pleasure, too. The knowledge that she’d never done this before, slept with a man she didn’t know very well, and that he was utter perfection and that it was exciting as hell. Everything she saw was like a visual assault: his dark, sexy eyes, his large hands massaging her breasts, their bodies moving together in a heated rush.
He went so long and hard in her that she was sure he’d come, and she didn’t even care whether or not she did, because this was an entirely different kind of pleasure, unrelated to orgasm, about nothing but the way their bodies connected, the slick interlock, the powerful drives that reverberated all through her. She loved absorbing every hot stroke he delivered, loved the little cries they forced from her throat, the way she felt nearly out of her head with lusty joy, unable to think clearly, only to soak it in.
“I want to make you come,” she heard herself say.
He softened his thrusts, took her face in his hands. “Not yet, baby.”
She didn’t argue. Now that she thought about it, she wasn’t exactly ready for this to be over just yet, either. But she gasped when he eased back, drawing out of her. She’d never felt so abandoned and empty in her life. “What . . . ?” she heard herself utter in shock.
Rolling over, he pulled her on top of him until she straddled his thighs. Using two fingers, he plucked at one shoulder strap of her cami. “Take this off.”
She obliged, removing it over her head.
He skimmed his hands slowly over her from hips to shoulders, then back again, gently tweaking her nipples along the way. She slid her palms up his firm stomach onto his chest, dusted with dark hair. Her eyes dropped to his penis, still rock-hard, arcing up his abdomen in the moonlight, past his navel. Dear God, he was as big as he’d felt.
“I’ve watched this beautiful body of yours on my computer screen, honey,” he said, “and it’s so good to finally have you in my arms.” His hands splayed over the tops of her thighs before gliding slowly inward, inward, so close to her cunt she thought she’d scream from frustration. She heard her own breath, growing ragged again, and then—ah, God—he stroked one thumb up the center of her wet folds, then the other. She couldn’t help pushing lightly at the touches, each ending with the slightest brush over her swollen clit.
“And I’ve seen this pretty body come so hot for me,” he went on, still stroking her pussy, his thumbs moving gradually deeper, deeper into her open slit, “but now I want to make you come. Make you come hard and hot. Just for me.”
Pulling in her breath, meeting his piercing eyes, she spoke her heart. “You made me come already. Every time. It was you—it was knowing you watched me. You must know that.”
A sexy smile turned up the corners of his mouth. “But this is still different. You said you wanted my hands, my cock.”
She let out a long, languid sigh, along with a nod, still shocked that she had said those things. “I did. I do.” Her gaze dropped again to that phenomenal appendage.
“Well, now they’re gonna make you come, baby. And I’m gonna watch it wash over you, watch you soar, watch you lose control.”
She tilted her head, curled her fingertips into his chest. “Don’t you know? I lost control the moment I realized you were watching me. And maybe I regained it, for a little while, but it’s gone again—and I don’t think it’s coming back this time.”
His smile widened. “That’s what I want. You without any control.