Page 66
Story: Power Play
The touch of her fingers at my waistband makes me pull back, dipping my chin to watch. The first few times, the button fails to pop at her demanding fingers, but eventually it gives, and the grind of the zipper lowering catches my breath. Her hand dips in, wrapping around my dick. I thrust into her palm, devouring the sensation of another’s touch when I’ve gone so long without.
Knee to the bed, I press off and stand. Taking in every inch of her near-naked body sprawled across the bed, waiting for me, I toe off my tennis shoes and let my jeans puddle to the floor. I hiss in a breath, wrapping a hand around myself and squeezing tight.
“Condom?” she pants.
I nod and retrieve my wallet from my jeans, tugging the condom out and tossing the wallet to the floor. I rip the wrapper up and roll the thin rubber down my hard length.
“Is this what you want?” I ask, giving my cock another hard squeeze. Fuck, this isn't going to last long. It's been way too long, and the building fire between us is on the verge of an all-engulfing inferno.
A flush spreads across her fair cheeks, highlighting her freckles. Biting her lip, she responds with a shaky nod.
I start at her ankles, softly stroking the tips of my fingers up and down her skin, rising higher with each pass. The edges of the robe fall away, pooling at her side.
“This is dangerous,” I mutter to myself. “This changes everything.”
There's no coming back from this, from her.
Ask me if I fucking care.
Chapter Twenty
Randi
Ican't breathe. No air will fill my lungs, even though I'm sucking in as much as I can with each short breath.
Holy hotness, the man is like the Italian statues I've seen in textbooks. He's strong but not bulky, lean and toned. Muscles bunch with every move he makes, snapping taut beneath his soft tan skin. A smatter of chest hair covers the space between his pecs, disappearing down his rippled stomach until reappearing just below his navel.
My gaze follows the well-named happy trail, pausing on his thick cock, mesmerized by each tug of his hand up and down his shaft. I lick my lips, desperate to lean forward for a taste. Up and down his hand moves, that damn smirk causing even more dampness to gather between my thighs.
So this is what handsy sex should've been like my whole life.
Or maybe handsy sex is only good with Trouble.
Hmm, need to think that through. Later.
His hands brush up my legs, shoving away the offending scraps of robe that still cover parts of my body. Over my waist, up my chest, lingering to pinch and twist both aching nipples, his hands finally dip beneath my shoulders, tugging the robe lower down my back.
“What the—” His mouth hangs open, eyes wide, focused on my right shoulder. I give it a little wiggle. “You have a tattoo. Tattoos.”
I nod, reaching up and running my fingers across his chest. Touching him is a compulsion; I couldn't stop myself even if I drained every last drop of energy into trying.
He yanks the sleeve of the robe lower. “How far does it go?”
“My elbow.” Reaching down, I wrap my hand around him. “Can we talk about this later?”
Hooded eyes meet mine as I stretch between us, squeezing him tight. Trouble’s lids slam shut as his hips drive forward. The head skims between my folds, grazing my clit.
“Trey,” I whine. I should be embarrassed, but I'm not—at all. This is fucking fantastic and terrible and wonderful all at the same time. The anticipation of what’s to come, the feel of him inside me, is almost too much to contain.
He dips forward, his teeth latching onto a peeked nipple while his tongue flicks furiously, barely connecting and driving me crazy. I slide the rubber-covered tip up and down my slit, teasing myself while arching my chest against his torturous mouth.
He grips my wrist, tugging my hand away. My whimper morphs into a relieved moan as he pushes the first inch of his hard length inside me. He moves in slow, calculated strokes, pulling all the way out before plunging deeper than before.
Sweat beads along his forehead, gathering to drip down his temples.
I moan, but he quickly presses his lips over mine to quiet the sound. A soft, demanding tongue teases mine, caressing and plunging with expert strokes.
Heat crawls beneath my skin, sweat glistening over every inch and slicking the places where our bodies connect.
Knee to the bed, I press off and stand. Taking in every inch of her near-naked body sprawled across the bed, waiting for me, I toe off my tennis shoes and let my jeans puddle to the floor. I hiss in a breath, wrapping a hand around myself and squeezing tight.
“Condom?” she pants.
I nod and retrieve my wallet from my jeans, tugging the condom out and tossing the wallet to the floor. I rip the wrapper up and roll the thin rubber down my hard length.
“Is this what you want?” I ask, giving my cock another hard squeeze. Fuck, this isn't going to last long. It's been way too long, and the building fire between us is on the verge of an all-engulfing inferno.
A flush spreads across her fair cheeks, highlighting her freckles. Biting her lip, she responds with a shaky nod.
I start at her ankles, softly stroking the tips of my fingers up and down her skin, rising higher with each pass. The edges of the robe fall away, pooling at her side.
“This is dangerous,” I mutter to myself. “This changes everything.”
There's no coming back from this, from her.
Ask me if I fucking care.
Chapter Twenty
Randi
Ican't breathe. No air will fill my lungs, even though I'm sucking in as much as I can with each short breath.
Holy hotness, the man is like the Italian statues I've seen in textbooks. He's strong but not bulky, lean and toned. Muscles bunch with every move he makes, snapping taut beneath his soft tan skin. A smatter of chest hair covers the space between his pecs, disappearing down his rippled stomach until reappearing just below his navel.
My gaze follows the well-named happy trail, pausing on his thick cock, mesmerized by each tug of his hand up and down his shaft. I lick my lips, desperate to lean forward for a taste. Up and down his hand moves, that damn smirk causing even more dampness to gather between my thighs.
So this is what handsy sex should've been like my whole life.
Or maybe handsy sex is only good with Trouble.
Hmm, need to think that through. Later.
His hands brush up my legs, shoving away the offending scraps of robe that still cover parts of my body. Over my waist, up my chest, lingering to pinch and twist both aching nipples, his hands finally dip beneath my shoulders, tugging the robe lower down my back.
“What the—” His mouth hangs open, eyes wide, focused on my right shoulder. I give it a little wiggle. “You have a tattoo. Tattoos.”
I nod, reaching up and running my fingers across his chest. Touching him is a compulsion; I couldn't stop myself even if I drained every last drop of energy into trying.
He yanks the sleeve of the robe lower. “How far does it go?”
“My elbow.” Reaching down, I wrap my hand around him. “Can we talk about this later?”
Hooded eyes meet mine as I stretch between us, squeezing him tight. Trouble’s lids slam shut as his hips drive forward. The head skims between my folds, grazing my clit.
“Trey,” I whine. I should be embarrassed, but I'm not—at all. This is fucking fantastic and terrible and wonderful all at the same time. The anticipation of what’s to come, the feel of him inside me, is almost too much to contain.
He dips forward, his teeth latching onto a peeked nipple while his tongue flicks furiously, barely connecting and driving me crazy. I slide the rubber-covered tip up and down my slit, teasing myself while arching my chest against his torturous mouth.
He grips my wrist, tugging my hand away. My whimper morphs into a relieved moan as he pushes the first inch of his hard length inside me. He moves in slow, calculated strokes, pulling all the way out before plunging deeper than before.
Sweat beads along his forehead, gathering to drip down his temples.
I moan, but he quickly presses his lips over mine to quiet the sound. A soft, demanding tongue teases mine, caressing and plunging with expert strokes.
Heat crawls beneath my skin, sweat glistening over every inch and slicking the places where our bodies connect.
Table of Contents
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