Hands fist in my hair, jerking my head back until I'm staring up into hard blue eyes. Every fiber of my being is vibrating, begging and pleading as I hold back a sharp cry. He reaches his free hand around, never breaking our gaze, and grips my bare mound. Oh, God. I'm going to come. I've never had an orgasm without something, anything, at least touching my clit, but this might be the first. I'm so close I'm shaking. And he knows it. One side of his mouth turns up in amusement.
"Are you ready for me, Sweetheart?" he speaks low, his voice sending chills down my back. I have no idea if I'm ready for him. I haven't had one glimpse of his cock, even though he's seen every single inch of my naked body. He had me undressed and pressed against the wall within thirty seconds of the door closing.
But I swallow thickly and nod. I need him like I need air to breathe. Little or big - it makes no difference, though something tells me that no part of this man has ever been associated with the word little. His six foot height, worn jeans, and long sleeve, un-tucked button down shirt that he had rolled up at the sleeves was what had caught my eye to begin with. Dark brown hair that's just slightly too long, tight square jaw with just a hint of five o'clock shadow, made me look twice. Still, I might have been okay, but then those vivid blue eyes captured mine, and I was gone.
I'd known before I left the bar that I would fuck him tonight.
But I was wrong.
Tonight, he was fucking me.
I love having control in the bedroom. Or at least I thought I did. But whatever this man is doing to me, I've never felt this way. He's taken control of not just me, but the air around us.
His hand moves further, one long finger teasing my folds, and I whimper.
"So wet," he murmurs, his finger sliding down, then back up and over my swollen nub. My hips buck and he twists, spinning us around and moving toward the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook Manhattan. I tense. Every light in this room is on, and it's pitch black outside other than the lights of the city. Anyone can see us. Or rather, they can see me. He's behind me, so there's no need for him to worry about the whole of New York staring at his naked body.
He presses me up against the glass, my nipples hardening painfully at the sudden cold. Yet my pussy heats more, my juices coating his hand.
He chuckles against my neck. "So you do like it."
Two fingers enter me and I groan. He's right. The smooth glass against my nipples, the thought that anyone and everyone can see me - I don't want to, but I love it. There's something so fucking sexy about it that I've never imagined before.
"I need you inside me," I say, my voice on the verge of begging.
But he turns me around instead, facing him, and pushes my shoulders down until I'm kneeling before him. His long, thick cock is in my face. Holy fuck! There's no way that will fit in my pussy, much less my mouth. The head is red and angry. Pulsing. A drop of pre-cum lingers at the slit, and I stretch my tongue out to lap at it tentatively. It's salty and musky, and it makes me want more. I wrap my lips around him and glance up. He has both hands on the glass and he's watching me intently, his vivid eyes darkened to almost black with need.
I reach up and cup his large sack, squeezing lightly. At the same time I swirl my tongue around his cock. His eyes drift closed and his head falls back with a loud groan. His hips thrust forward and barely half of his cock is in my mouth, the head just touching the back of my throat. I hum and swallow, pulling it deeper, and he pulls back. He pumps in and out, slow then fast, back and forth. I can't help but slip my own hand down to my pussy. It feels so fucking good, and I'm so close.
Suddenly he pulls out and yanks me up, spinning me and placing my hands on the glass where his were only moments before. Then his cock is at my entrance. I moan and shiver, and he's inside me with one quick thrust.
