Page 85 of Sigma
Dammit, I can’t ignore the siren song of his cock. Can’t. Not any longer.
I close my hand around him, and he sucks in a breath between his teeth, blows it out shakily between pursed lips. I stroke his length. As slowly as I can, I caress him from tip to root, and all the while the fingers of my other hand work soft, slow, fluttering circles over my clit.
Damn the man, he doesn’t move.
I twist my fist on the way down, pause to cradle his balls in my palm and massage them before gliding my touch back up. My fingers press harder against my clit, their speed quickening. I gasp as lightning builds in flashing, searing bolts through my limbs and into my toes and behind my eyes, scouring my pussy with blasting bolts of white-hot arousal. I lean against him more fully, burying my nose in his neck, writhing against him as I dip helplessly at the knees. Pump his cock, trying to keep it slow, to keep my grip loose and soft, and failing. His breathing is rough and ragged, but his body is otherwise stone-still.
My hips flex, now, pushing forward against my flying fingers. My fist clutches at his cock as I start the ascent to climax, squeezing until he grunts in protest, and I release him, forcing my touch to lighten. I’m gasping against the side of his throat, all my weight leaning against his body, tits flattened, knees threatening to give out as I gasp and whimper into orgasm. I can’t help the whip-quick stroke of my hand on his cock as I come. He pants, and his abs tighten. A growl escapes him.
I mewl like a day-old kitten when my orgasm strikes me, hitting like a freight train. Not as good as the one he gave me, albeit. But it still has me shrieking through gritted teeth with the shocking intensity of it.
I force my caressing of his pulsing cock to slow, even as I come and come. It’s a contradiction in needs—my orgasm wracking me into helpless twitching and thrashing and writhing against him, but I’m not ready for him come and I refuse to let go of his cock but yet also want to drag it out. Force a reaction from him.
The climax reaches a crescendo as my fingers fly side-to-side, and I feel everything inside me clench, crush with the furious intensity of it. My knees finally give out, and I drop to my knees in front of him.
Lean my cheek against his belly, gasping, and turn to look up at him. Palm his hips, and push away to kneel upright rather than resting on him. His eyes are heavy-lidded, hooded, sparking with arousal.
Precum leaks from the tip of his cock. I clasp his erection in both hands and keep my eyes on his…lick the clear fluid from the weeping hole at the tip. This finally results in a growl, a flex of his hips.
“Corinna…” he whispers, as I part my lips, telegraphing my intentions clearly.
My lips wrap around his cock, and I taste the salt of his flesh and the musk of his precum. Tongue him. Take him as far as I feel comfortable, and back away.
“Corinna,” he murmurs again.
I caress him with both hands and meet his eyes. “Did you think you could get away that easily?” I ask. “That you could growl at me and be all gruff and terse, and that I’d just…let it go?”
He rests his hands on my shoulders, acquiescing to the need to touch me, finally. “Yes, I did, actually.”
“You were sadly mistaken, in that case.”
“So it seems.”
I cup his balls in one hand, cradle and caress them. With the other, I stroke his length with slow twisting touches, bringing him away from his body and taking him into my mouth. Lower my mouth around him, lift away. Stroke the root, caress the heavy sac. All three at once, then, sliding his thick length through my lips in a slow rhythm and twisting short strokes around the thick base of him and massaging his taut balls in my cradling palm.
“Fuck,” he whispers. “Corinna, I warned you what I would do, did I not?”
I don’t let him free of my mouth when I answer, hum an affirmative around him as I gaze up at him. “Mmm-hmmm?”
“Is that what you want?” he growls, hips pushing as I feel the climax rising in him. “Are youtryingto push me to the breaking point?”
I don’t slow in my ministrations. I take him from my mouth and plunge both fists around his throbbing length, and hold his eyes. “Yes,” I whisper. “I am.”
He watches me caress his cock for a few moments before answering. “When I break, I won’t be sweet for you, Corinna. I cannot be gentle. My need to be inside you is too great. Don’t tempt me into something you’re not ready for.”
I look up at him with a frowning smirk, a wry twist of my lips and a puzzled frown of my brow. “What about me makes you think I want you to be anything but what you are? At what point have you shown me a sweet side, Apollo?”
“Right now,” he says. “This is me being sweet. Letting you toy with me.”
I take him into my mouth, take him deep, caressing and squeezing and stroking with my hands where I cannot reach with my mouth, suckling and swallowing around him. Back away when he begins to grunt.
“I am toying with you,” I whisper, licking the tip of him. Up the sides, as if he were a lollipop. “But this isn’t you being sweet. This is you clinging to the notion that you’re in control.”
“You think I can’t and won’t stop you the moment I’m ready?”
I just smile at him. Lick upward along a winding blue-purple vein from root to tip, rolling my mouth over the broad plump head, wrapping my lips around the rim. Suckle, tonguing the tip. His groan is long and low. I find a slow rhythm, then, using the trio of touches he seems to respond to best, mouthing around his cock, stroking his length, cupping his balls. That last one seems to really get him—the more I cradle them, the more I massage and play with them, the heavier his breathing gets. Lord knows I’m not using my mouth any faster, nor my hands. But yet he’s exhibiting all the signs of nearing climax: his hips flex and push, his thighs are tensed and bunched, his abs braced and tight, his breathing is rough and shallow.
It’s tempting to think I’ve got him where I want him—about to come. But I don’t take anything for granted where he’s concerned. I took him to the edge with just my hands last time, and he pulled away at the last second, bearing down with remarkable control to stop himself.