“Open for me love. That’s it.” He lets out a soft growl when my mouth falls open on a pant. He takes advantage, his tongue dipping into my mouth. I love the invasion as he takes control. I can feel him all over.
I grip his arms, my nails digging into his biceps, caught between pushing him away and pulling him closer. He feels just like a man should, his firm muscles flexing beneath my fingers. And he’s so strong. I take shameless delight in his obvious strength as he sits back and pulls me on his lap. I take the opportunity to run my hands all over his broad shoulders and over the hard muscles in his chest.
I press forward rubbing against his chest. The friction is delicious, and every time my nipples brush against his chest, something clenches deep. He’s hot and hard beneath me and I can feel the stiff length behind his zipper. I want him inside, on top and all over me. I want to lose myself in him.
He pushes my skirt up, his fingers running up the insides of my thighs. I moan out loud when he presses his thumbs against my heat. Even through my panties, surely he can feel how wet I am already. Then his thumbs slip past the cotton barrier and brush over my naked sex. I shudder at the touch. It suddenly feels like I’m aching between my legs. And empty. So empty.
With that thought, I launch myself over his chest, fusing my mouth to his. He falls back with a soft grunt, wrapping his arms around me to keep us upright. A second later he has me under him, his hard body sliding in the cradle of my legs. His weight is a welcome distraction, all that delicious muscle on top of me. He kisses me like he can’t get enough of my taste, licking and biting and sucking. I’m helpless to stop it even if I’d wanted to.
He holds me captive with his hands in my hair, his mouth insistent as he explores my lips, neck and throat. I’m suddenly not sure how we’ve gotten to this point, when we stopped talking and started kissing. I’m not even sure if I’ll regret this in a few hours.
Oh my god, this is happening so fast.
My logical mind tries to intervene but is quickly overridden by the exquisite sensations racing through me. I grip his shoulders and push back some, trying to put a little distance between us. I can’t think when we’re wrapped around each other.
His gaze drops to my mouth again and he licks his lips, like he’s remembering my taste and missing it already. I groan. Everything about him calls to me, his broad shoulders, his nimble fingers, his tormenting mouth and most of all, his knowing eyes.
I want him, whether it’s a mistake or not. And all the logic in the world can’t stop this.
Standing in the middle of my room, some of my reason comes back. Tank followed me down the hall and now reclines on my bed, his arms folded behind his head. The silence is a little unnerving. I think he’s waiting for me to change my mind.
But that’s not what I want.
The past eight months of my life have been like walking through fog. I have panic attacks at the simplest things and constant uncertainty over what I should do, where I should go and what the future holds. But right here, right now, I’m not uncertain and I’m definitely not afraid.
I’m alive. Only Tank makes me feel this way.
“Come here,” he whispers.
From anyone else the order would annoy me but from him, yeah I’ll come anywhere he wants me to. I crawl across the bed, newly aware of how my body moves. His eyes follow every movement, taking in the arch in my back, the placement of my hand between his legs and then my thighs as I straddle him. When he looks up at me, his eyes are hooded. I’m slammed with a sharp ache deep in my belly at the raw, carnal desire in that look. He sees something he wants.
And it’s me.
“You are so beautiful. So perfect.” His hands skim over the skin of my arm and up into my hair. He always seems fixated on my hair. Now he’s gripping it, twisting the long strands around his fist. I whimper, taken off guard by how hot it is to have him holding me like this. He’s turned my hair into some kind of leash and the idea of him taking control that way is … startlingly arousing.
He pulls me forward and leans up at the same time until our mouths meet again. I can’t think with his mouth on mine. Suddenly, he turns us over, so I’m on the bottom and the weight of him settling on top of me is so good that I groan out loud. His jeans rub right up against my panties causing the fabric to slip and slide through the folds of my sex. My head falls back and I grind against him shamelessly. Every rock of his hips brushes against my clit and it’s got me right on the edge. My skirt is around my waist at this point and when he looks down, he can see the white cotton and the wetness on the inside of my thighs.
“Look how wet you are for me. For this.” He hooks a finger in the panties and pulls them to the side. Then his finger slides deep, pushing through my clenching muscles all the way up to his knuckle.
“Tank. I need…”
He bites my bottom lip and his eyes fix on mine, hot and hard. “I know what you need. You need this,” his finger plunges deep again, “and you need me.”
He pulls away briefly to yank his shirt over his head and push his jeans down. I take the opportunity to shed my shirt and wiggle out of my skirt. When I look over at him again, he’s completely naked. As I watch, he rolls a condom over his thick shaft, his eyes holding mine the whole time. My breath leaves my lungs on a helpless sigh. His cock curves up, long and thick almost to his belly button. It’s built on a large scale just like the rest of him.
I grip his arms, my nails digging into his biceps, caught between pushing him away and pulling him closer. He feels just like a man should, his firm muscles flexing beneath my fingers. And he’s so strong. I take shameless delight in his obvious strength as he sits back and pulls me on his lap. I take the opportunity to run my hands all over his broad shoulders and over the hard muscles in his chest.
I press forward rubbing against his chest. The friction is delicious, and every time my nipples brush against his chest, something clenches deep. He’s hot and hard beneath me and I can feel the stiff length behind his zipper. I want him inside, on top and all over me. I want to lose myself in him.
He pushes my skirt up, his fingers running up the insides of my thighs. I moan out loud when he presses his thumbs against my heat. Even through my panties, surely he can feel how wet I am already. Then his thumbs slip past the cotton barrier and brush over my naked sex. I shudder at the touch. It suddenly feels like I’m aching between my legs. And empty. So empty.
With that thought, I launch myself over his chest, fusing my mouth to his. He falls back with a soft grunt, wrapping his arms around me to keep us upright. A second later he has me under him, his hard body sliding in the cradle of my legs. His weight is a welcome distraction, all that delicious muscle on top of me. He kisses me like he can’t get enough of my taste, licking and biting and sucking. I’m helpless to stop it even if I’d wanted to.
He holds me captive with his hands in my hair, his mouth insistent as he explores my lips, neck and throat. I’m suddenly not sure how we’ve gotten to this point, when we stopped talking and started kissing. I’m not even sure if I’ll regret this in a few hours.
Oh my god, this is happening so fast.
My logical mind tries to intervene but is quickly overridden by the exquisite sensations racing through me. I grip his shoulders and push back some, trying to put a little distance between us. I can’t think when we’re wrapped around each other.
His gaze drops to my mouth again and he licks his lips, like he’s remembering my taste and missing it already. I groan. Everything about him calls to me, his broad shoulders, his nimble fingers, his tormenting mouth and most of all, his knowing eyes.
I want him, whether it’s a mistake or not. And all the logic in the world can’t stop this.
Standing in the middle of my room, some of my reason comes back. Tank followed me down the hall and now reclines on my bed, his arms folded behind his head. The silence is a little unnerving. I think he’s waiting for me to change my mind.
But that’s not what I want.
The past eight months of my life have been like walking through fog. I have panic attacks at the simplest things and constant uncertainty over what I should do, where I should go and what the future holds. But right here, right now, I’m not uncertain and I’m definitely not afraid.
I’m alive. Only Tank makes me feel this way.
“Come here,” he whispers.
From anyone else the order would annoy me but from him, yeah I’ll come anywhere he wants me to. I crawl across the bed, newly aware of how my body moves. His eyes follow every movement, taking in the arch in my back, the placement of my hand between his legs and then my thighs as I straddle him. When he looks up at me, his eyes are hooded. I’m slammed with a sharp ache deep in my belly at the raw, carnal desire in that look. He sees something he wants.
And it’s me.
“You are so beautiful. So perfect.” His hands skim over the skin of my arm and up into my hair. He always seems fixated on my hair. Now he’s gripping it, twisting the long strands around his fist. I whimper, taken off guard by how hot it is to have him holding me like this. He’s turned my hair into some kind of leash and the idea of him taking control that way is … startlingly arousing.
He pulls me forward and leans up at the same time until our mouths meet again. I can’t think with his mouth on mine. Suddenly, he turns us over, so I’m on the bottom and the weight of him settling on top of me is so good that I groan out loud. His jeans rub right up against my panties causing the fabric to slip and slide through the folds of my sex. My head falls back and I grind against him shamelessly. Every rock of his hips brushes against my clit and it’s got me right on the edge. My skirt is around my waist at this point and when he looks down, he can see the white cotton and the wetness on the inside of my thighs.
“Look how wet you are for me. For this.” He hooks a finger in the panties and pulls them to the side. Then his finger slides deep, pushing through my clenching muscles all the way up to his knuckle.
“Tank. I need…”
He bites my bottom lip and his eyes fix on mine, hot and hard. “I know what you need. You need this,” his finger plunges deep again, “and you need me.”
He pulls away briefly to yank his shirt over his head and push his jeans down. I take the opportunity to shed my shirt and wiggle out of my skirt. When I look over at him again, he’s completely naked. As I watch, he rolls a condom over his thick shaft, his eyes holding mine the whole time. My breath leaves my lungs on a helpless sigh. His cock curves up, long and thick almost to his belly button. It’s built on a large scale just like the rest of him.
