The kisses are passionate and hurried. I guess I want to make sure I get her in a compromising position before she manages to change her mind. Lips are nibbled, clothing is shed. I'm not sure if I'll find that shirt in the morning but I don't really care. Her tongue in my mouth, on my neck, against my ear when she whispers, "You're so damn beautiful." I shiver but I don't care if she felt it.
Pushing her to the bed, I remove the clip in her hair, the last piece of clothing she had left. Falling back on the bed, she pulls me on top of her. More kissing, and now there are hands everywhere. All the things that are "wrong" with me are forgotten in the feel and taste of everything that is right with her. I reach out and grab the silk strip she didn't notice and, while kissing her, tie it around her wrist. She breaks the kiss to gasp. I look at her wickedly and her eyes soften when she looks into mine, "You're evil."
Smiling, I nod, "Yes, I am." As I tie her other wrist, I whisper hotly in her ear, "But I am so fucking good at it." My hands unoccupied, they find her nipples as my tongue finds and licks the curve of her ear. This time it's her that shivers. My fingers pinch her nipples into aching peaks and my lips, hungry for them, make their way down her neck to her chest to tease. Peppering kisses there, I know I'm creating a need. And that, God help her, is the point. When my head dips to allow my pointed tongue to flick a nipple, she groans. Then my lips wrap around that same nipple to suckle and she arches hard for more contact.
"God, you're driving me crazy," she moans.
Having switched to the other side, I stop my flicking tongue only long enough to answer, "Just enjoy the trip then, baby." Sucking, flicking, swirling, I spend ample time with each nipple in turn. My hands hold the full weight of each breast and squeeze them softly as I switch back and forth. To give her a little relief, I kiss between them at intervals so that when I go back, the tip I lavish attention on first is no longer numb to the sensation.