“Me too.” I let my tongue come out, to lick his thumb.
He likes it, smiles. My insides melt under the force of that smile.
I’m not sure this casual dating thing is working for me. I think of him all the time, and not just for this—although this seems to be the only outlet I have for these feelings inside me.
I reach out, craving his touch, and the need to touch him is too much. I urge his shirt up the waistband of his slacks; then I push the fabric up his chest and Ian pulls it over his head with a tug. The movement messes up his hair, and it ends up tousled and gorgeous as he stands before me in nothing but his slacks.
“Here. Give me this,” he says, taking my chin between his thumb and forefinger and tipping my face back to take from my lips what he hungers for. I don’t know what it is he hungers for—my taste or my lips or my lust or the way I respond to him without hesitation. Maybe he hungers to simply drive me wild. But I give him everything because I hunger for all of that from him, too.
The way he tastes me like I’m a perfect morsel. The way he kisses me like he’s burning up with passion and I’m the cause. The way he holds my face so that there’s no escaping his kiss or his passion.
When he tears his mouth free, he’s breathing hard, and I’m chasing my breath in and out. I grab his belt and unbuckle him. I trail my fingers up his hard abs and his pecs.
He tips my face back farther, for him to bend down and drop kisses all over me. I offer it with no protest, sighing softly when his kisses start a haphazard path across my chin and cheeks and nose and forehead.
He tugs my sweater dress up my frame. He pulls it over my head and bends to flick open my bra from the front clasp.
He sets a kiss on my nose. Then my chin. Then between my breasts. Before he licks the tip of his tongue in a hot little circle around the tip of one breast. My toes curl when he cups my breast with the heel of his palm and sucks me fully into his mouth. My head falls back and his arm comes around to hold me on my feet. I tremble as he keeps sucking me, and I make a small, mewling sound.
Ian smiles at that. Gathering me to him, he backs us to the couch and takes a seat, bringing me down with him.
I’m breathless and frantic, curling my arms around his neck as I straddle him, pressing my lips to his, my tongue circling around his, pushing against his.
He slows the pace with his tongue, stroking a hand down my back, causing tingles to race down my spine.
I look up at him and into his smoldering dark eyes as I reach to dip my fingers between our bodies, under his slacks. His cock is made for sex and pleasure, and right now nothing can convince me that it wasn’t made for me and only me.
I curl my fingers around him as Ian slides his own between my thighs, under my panties. “How hard do you want it?” He presses his mouth to my own, kissing me lazily between words.
I push my hips up to his touch. “Hard,” I whimper.
He bends and licks one of my nipples, then the other. Then he blows air on them, the yummy bastard. And my whole body clenches and arches up as a bow, my hips thrusting for more of his fingers. “Yummy, please.”
I rock them against his hardness.
He grabs the back of my head and inhales the back of my ear, then kisses a path to my breasts. “You smell good, Dancer.” His eyes twinkle greedily as his tongue snakes out to taste my nipples. I gasp and clench my fingers into his hair.
“Like garbage?” I quip after being all day on set with him.
“No, sweetheart. You smell like you.”
He rolls me over to lay me down on the length of the couch, and I can tell that he’s using his arms to keep from crushing me beneath him. I lock one of my legs around his hips and pull him down lower, wanting his weight on top of me. Wanting all of him over me.
“Take these off.” I tug at his pants.
He stands to remove them, stepping out of his shoes and taking off his boxers along with his slacks.
His skin is so warm as he spreads his body on top of mine that I mewl softly. I run my hands down the muscles on his back, feeling them flex as he adjusts himself above me to continue his assault on my body.
His scent hits me on every breath. He doesn’t seem like he’s in any hurry. He’s torturing me sexually and I don’t know if I want to hit him for it or kiss him for it, so I decide I’ll just fuck him really hard for it.
As soon as he stops licking me between my thighs, he lets my panties come back to cover my wet sex and he comes up and licks his lips, running his tongue across his teeth as if savoring me.
“I can’t get over how responsive you are. How flexible your sweet body is. It drives me crazy to watch you come undone.”
He tips my head back so that our eyes lock. His hand curls around the back of my neck, and then he cradles the back of my head with his thumb as he kisses me.
His other thumb caresses my sex lips. He’s driving me crazy with wanting.
He reaches out and tugs off my panties, easing them down my legs. I’m quivering, helpless, watching as Ian pushes my legs wider apart and thrusts inside.
“Please!” I gasp, curling my legs around him. I clench him hard with my thighs and press my mouth to his jaw as he pulls out. “Please. Please,” I ramble unthinkingly, and Ian drives back in, holding me still by the waist.
“I want this just as badly as you do.” His eyes gleam as his face clenches harshly with desire.
Beautiful and untamed, he moves powerfully above me. We hold gazes as he moves, his hand on my ankle as he keeps my leg open around his hips. He manages to hit me at my exact G-spot. Nobody’s ever fucked me like he does.
I groan and sink my nails into his muscular shoulders, leaving claw marks and not minding that I do. I want to leave a mark. I want him to know that he’s mine now.
He looks at my bouncing breasts, my reddened breasts, groaning low when I stroke my fingers along his muscular ass.
I’m so wet he slides easily in, but I feel completely stretched and out of my mind with need for him every time he fills me to the brim. I undulate my body, clutching him for more.
“Gorgeous. You’re gorgeous, Sara. I fucking love fucking you. I fucking love being with you. In you.” Watching me through openly hot eyes, Ian reaches out and flicks the pad of his thumb across my clit.
I scream as I orgasm.
It takes me like a crashing wave, drowning me.
I don’t breathe the whole time the shudders take me. Ian pins me down by the hips and keeps pumping into me, watching me twist and turn and gasp. Then he reaches that edge, and I watch the flash in his eyes as he climbs over it.
And in that moment, he grabs my face to kiss me. He kisses me hard and passionately, like he wants me to be the one who receives everything that he’s unleashing as he comes.
I curl into him, the aftershocks running all over me. I feel amazing, our bodies loose, sweat coating Ian’s chest and mine.
He throws his head back and sighs contentedly as he stares at the ceiling, his hand coming to stroke the back of my head.
“Hmmm,” I say, smiling against his chest.
I peer up at him and notice he’s got his eyes closed, a half smile tugging at his lips.
“That was nice,” I say.
“Nice doesn’t cover it.” He opens his eyes and strokes his fingers along my jaw. “Let’s get something to eat and get our strengths up so we can do it again.” He pecks my lips, and I groan as if I don’t want exactly that to happen. “Okay, but you cook us something.”
He pats my ass. “Nah, that’s what we’ve got Uber Eats for.”
He likes it, smiles. My insides melt under the force of that smile.
I’m not sure this casual dating thing is working for me. I think of him all the time, and not just for this—although this seems to be the only outlet I have for these feelings inside me.
I reach out, craving his touch, and the need to touch him is too much. I urge his shirt up the waistband of his slacks; then I push the fabric up his chest and Ian pulls it over his head with a tug. The movement messes up his hair, and it ends up tousled and gorgeous as he stands before me in nothing but his slacks.
“Here. Give me this,” he says, taking my chin between his thumb and forefinger and tipping my face back to take from my lips what he hungers for. I don’t know what it is he hungers for—my taste or my lips or my lust or the way I respond to him without hesitation. Maybe he hungers to simply drive me wild. But I give him everything because I hunger for all of that from him, too.
The way he tastes me like I’m a perfect morsel. The way he kisses me like he’s burning up with passion and I’m the cause. The way he holds my face so that there’s no escaping his kiss or his passion.
When he tears his mouth free, he’s breathing hard, and I’m chasing my breath in and out. I grab his belt and unbuckle him. I trail my fingers up his hard abs and his pecs.
He tips my face back farther, for him to bend down and drop kisses all over me. I offer it with no protest, sighing softly when his kisses start a haphazard path across my chin and cheeks and nose and forehead.
He tugs my sweater dress up my frame. He pulls it over my head and bends to flick open my bra from the front clasp.
He sets a kiss on my nose. Then my chin. Then between my breasts. Before he licks the tip of his tongue in a hot little circle around the tip of one breast. My toes curl when he cups my breast with the heel of his palm and sucks me fully into his mouth. My head falls back and his arm comes around to hold me on my feet. I tremble as he keeps sucking me, and I make a small, mewling sound.
Ian smiles at that. Gathering me to him, he backs us to the couch and takes a seat, bringing me down with him.
I’m breathless and frantic, curling my arms around his neck as I straddle him, pressing my lips to his, my tongue circling around his, pushing against his.
He slows the pace with his tongue, stroking a hand down my back, causing tingles to race down my spine.
I look up at him and into his smoldering dark eyes as I reach to dip my fingers between our bodies, under his slacks. His cock is made for sex and pleasure, and right now nothing can convince me that it wasn’t made for me and only me.
I curl my fingers around him as Ian slides his own between my thighs, under my panties. “How hard do you want it?” He presses his mouth to my own, kissing me lazily between words.
I push my hips up to his touch. “Hard,” I whimper.
He bends and licks one of my nipples, then the other. Then he blows air on them, the yummy bastard. And my whole body clenches and arches up as a bow, my hips thrusting for more of his fingers. “Yummy, please.”
I rock them against his hardness.
He grabs the back of my head and inhales the back of my ear, then kisses a path to my breasts. “You smell good, Dancer.” His eyes twinkle greedily as his tongue snakes out to taste my nipples. I gasp and clench my fingers into his hair.
“Like garbage?” I quip after being all day on set with him.
“No, sweetheart. You smell like you.”
He rolls me over to lay me down on the length of the couch, and I can tell that he’s using his arms to keep from crushing me beneath him. I lock one of my legs around his hips and pull him down lower, wanting his weight on top of me. Wanting all of him over me.
“Take these off.” I tug at his pants.
He stands to remove them, stepping out of his shoes and taking off his boxers along with his slacks.
His skin is so warm as he spreads his body on top of mine that I mewl softly. I run my hands down the muscles on his back, feeling them flex as he adjusts himself above me to continue his assault on my body.
His scent hits me on every breath. He doesn’t seem like he’s in any hurry. He’s torturing me sexually and I don’t know if I want to hit him for it or kiss him for it, so I decide I’ll just fuck him really hard for it.
As soon as he stops licking me between my thighs, he lets my panties come back to cover my wet sex and he comes up and licks his lips, running his tongue across his teeth as if savoring me.
“I can’t get over how responsive you are. How flexible your sweet body is. It drives me crazy to watch you come undone.”
He tips my head back so that our eyes lock. His hand curls around the back of my neck, and then he cradles the back of my head with his thumb as he kisses me.
His other thumb caresses my sex lips. He’s driving me crazy with wanting.
He reaches out and tugs off my panties, easing them down my legs. I’m quivering, helpless, watching as Ian pushes my legs wider apart and thrusts inside.
“Please!” I gasp, curling my legs around him. I clench him hard with my thighs and press my mouth to his jaw as he pulls out. “Please. Please,” I ramble unthinkingly, and Ian drives back in, holding me still by the waist.
“I want this just as badly as you do.” His eyes gleam as his face clenches harshly with desire.
Beautiful and untamed, he moves powerfully above me. We hold gazes as he moves, his hand on my ankle as he keeps my leg open around his hips. He manages to hit me at my exact G-spot. Nobody’s ever fucked me like he does.
I groan and sink my nails into his muscular shoulders, leaving claw marks and not minding that I do. I want to leave a mark. I want him to know that he’s mine now.
He looks at my bouncing breasts, my reddened breasts, groaning low when I stroke my fingers along his muscular ass.
I’m so wet he slides easily in, but I feel completely stretched and out of my mind with need for him every time he fills me to the brim. I undulate my body, clutching him for more.
“Gorgeous. You’re gorgeous, Sara. I fucking love fucking you. I fucking love being with you. In you.” Watching me through openly hot eyes, Ian reaches out and flicks the pad of his thumb across my clit.
I scream as I orgasm.
It takes me like a crashing wave, drowning me.
I don’t breathe the whole time the shudders take me. Ian pins me down by the hips and keeps pumping into me, watching me twist and turn and gasp. Then he reaches that edge, and I watch the flash in his eyes as he climbs over it.
And in that moment, he grabs my face to kiss me. He kisses me hard and passionately, like he wants me to be the one who receives everything that he’s unleashing as he comes.
I curl into him, the aftershocks running all over me. I feel amazing, our bodies loose, sweat coating Ian’s chest and mine.
He throws his head back and sighs contentedly as he stares at the ceiling, his hand coming to stroke the back of my head.
“Hmmm,” I say, smiling against his chest.
I peer up at him and notice he’s got his eyes closed, a half smile tugging at his lips.
“That was nice,” I say.
“Nice doesn’t cover it.” He opens his eyes and strokes his fingers along my jaw. “Let’s get something to eat and get our strengths up so we can do it again.” He pecks my lips, and I groan as if I don’t want exactly that to happen. “Okay, but you cook us something.”
He pats my ass. “Nah, that’s what we’ve got Uber Eats for.”
