The build up started when I was leaving his house a week or so ago and he grabbed me by the hair, pulling me against him as well were leaving the dragon hoard room. Then in the entryway when I was tying up a conversation with his roommate - all he did was nudge my cheek towards him.
It was not a question, nor did I treat it as if it was one. It wasn't even a thought. I shut up and looked at him through my lashes. Smiling he tapped my chin and I raised my gaze up to meet his. Ah Gods, topaz hazel eyes shining, a quietly immutable gaze and it held me where I was, pulse racing. When we hug he picks me up by my ass, knowing damn well what he's doing.
Then seeing him Friday, his hand on my leg squeezing, skimming across whatever exposed skin he finds, how he looks at me, knowing what he's doing. Standing by his car, wrapped in his arms & mine wrapped around him; head held to his chest, surrounded by his heat & scent. How his hands slide under the waist of my shorts fingers & nails dragging down each ass cheek. His thumb finding that spot where my pelvic bone protrudes as a little bump, thumb tracing the thin skin there and digging his fingers into into my hips. Biting my shoulder when we hug once more..
Since then, well shit since before then, I've woken up throbbing, aching, just needing.
I've oddly been nervous as hell around him. Normally, it's so easy, but I've found myself verbally vomiting, doing that nervous chattering thing. It's like being at the top of the roller coaster, when you're afraid of it, but excited about it, too. You want to do it, want to give yourself to the experience, but the desire doesn't make it not frightening. Less frightening, maybe, but not without fear.
Butterflies are trying to escape my stomach while we talk, but not as bad as it has been the last couple of times I saw him. There's this relief tinged anticipation behind the fear that tips the scales however. I sit behind him on the bed as he flips through the channel, letting my eyes run over his shoulders, arms and back. Gods I love this view, the only thing that could make it better is if he was standing so I can see his ass and legs. I'll never understand why he can't see how adorably hot and sexy he is to me.
Biting my lip thinking about digging my nails into his shoulders for purchase while he's fucking me, coming around him, feeling that delicious pulsating as he comes, hearing that sound from the back of his throat followed by those gasps, groans and growling sound he makes when he's finally done? Ah Gods fucking in a fire, I'm throbbing with need now, so soaked I'm surprised it's not dripping down my thighs. I release a shuddering breath as I lay back on the bed. I'm not sure if he hears it or feels the tension change in me? However he knows and when he turns his head to look at me? That smile steals across his face, sparkles in his eyes and I'm suddenly the focus of his full attention making me shift and shiver at the intensity of his gaze.
He comes up the bed, hands tracing up my legs, lips following and he watches me the whole time with that damn grin in his eyes and lips. Surrendering to an impulse, I hold my arms out to him, wordlessly asking for him to come hold me. His smile softens as he asks,
"Oh yeah? You want something?"
"Mhmm" I reply, smiling. "Will you hold me Sexy Sir? Please?"
His response isn't verbal at first. He crawls up the bed, occasionally stopping to kiss me somewhere. It isn't until he's got me settled, that he leans over to kiss my forehead he says,
"Of course I'll hold you."
When his arms wrap around me? By the Gods, it's enough to bring tears to my eyes. His fingers skim my arms, my back, run up into my hair to hold me closer to him, with each touch, something in me that's been afraid, hesitant and anxious eases as I relax into his hands & arms. Being in his arms loosens me up inside somehow. Knowing him, he probably feels it happening and knows how badly I need it. It's not only been so long, but so much bullshit has happened. I don't know how long we laid there for, just that it was as long as I needed and a bit longer.
Lazily his fingers run up and down my stomach, stopping at my bra and when he reaches the hem of my shorts, he smiles at me as he lifts the fabric by the button & snaps it back down then tracing his fingers down to my hip bone, thumb running along it as he wraps his fingers around towards my back, gripping me there. He nips my earlobe, lips drag over to my jaw, down my neck biting halfway down. Then his hands are raising my shirt up and his lips are following, trailing across my stomach.
Sighing I run my hand across the top of his head, trace down his neck and let my fingers play in his hair. Occasionally he grins at me as he snaps the button of my shorts again. His hand never stops moving, tracing my shape down the side of me; gripping my hip, my ass, my thigh. When he helps me pull off my tank top, his mouth is hot on every inch of skin he exposes. He leans in to graze my lips again and again, when he finally takes my mouth, I cease to worry about trivial matters like breathing, I just want more.
I leave briefly and when I return he's standing there waiting. Gods the way he looks at me, that dark look men get when they're certain that clothing is all that's between them and being inside you. His is more than that, his eyes dance with something I can't name, but makes me shiver just thinking about it. An intensity like magic, a kind of power. The kind of power that a man can only have when he spills down your body with skilled hands and mouth.
He pulls me against him and pushes me against the wall at the same time, his kiss takes my breath, no games or teasing, just his mouth on mine. His hands run down me until they grip my ass, lifting me off my feet and entwining us. Cradling his face with my hands, my legs wrapped around him, and kiss him as if I could climb into him. He responds with a ferocity of his own, eating at my mouth with tongue and teeth and lips, until I'm making small sounds at the force of his mouth, the near painful grip of his arms and hands.
I melt against him; when he draws back, I'm light-headed, dizzily spinning, panting for want of air and the need of him. I've forgotten everything but the taste of his mouth, the feel of his body. I forgot everything but wanting, needing more. I barely notice him carrying me over to the bed I'm so lost in the taste of him. I'm clinging to him as if he's all that holds me from floating away, gasping for air when I remember to surface long enough to care about something as banal as breathing with his mouth on mine; with his body, taste, scent and warmth surrounding me.
Smiling he gets up and grabs the the bandana, raising his eyebrows at me. Returning the smile, I crawl over to kneel in front of him, pulling my hair up out of the way for him to tie it. He turns my face to him and adjusts it some before kissing my forehead. His hands ease me forward to bend over the bed. Holding myself up on my forearms my head drops to the bed when his hands start running across my back, across my ass while he softly pinches intermittently
His hand comes slamming down hard at first, then more gently, falling into a pattern where it increases each time until its so hard I'm jolting forward from the force and pushing back into each slap. Then he smoothes his hands over my ass they run back up over my hips, up my back until they meet to unclasp my bra. Leaving his left hand where my bra was clasped, he gently keeps me pushed down while his other hand retreats back down it's path to my ass and he starts again in earnest.
I'm squirming, soft sounds escaping me as I push my hips back towards him wanting more, harder. And oh Gods he gives it to me. When his hand slides up my shorts and pushes aside my panties?
He shifts it aside and slips first one, then two fingers in me. Pushing me forward & complaining about my shorts being in his way, he shimmies over my hips & peels them off. That obstacle removed, he lifts me up from my waist until my ass is up in the air & his hands trace along the lines of the thong, I feel him enjoying the sight from how he touches me.
The tone in his voice as he tells me how soaked I am makes me shiver. I can't stop the groan when he audibly sucks the taste of me from his fingers,
"God*damn* that pussy looks and is so fucking delicious. Mmm just look how wet it is. Fuck you're soaking wet - and I haven't even *started* yet."
"Mmhmmmm, it's been wet for days Sexy Sir, days." I manage to gasp out.
"Ooohh, reallyyyy?" His fingers tease me and he laughs lowly when I groan, wiggling my ass back towards him. Tisking he pulls his hand back and he groans "God, so fucking delicious. So fucking wet. Hmm.. you say days huh? Is that so?"