Everything he’s doing feels so good I’m afraid I might pass out from the pleasure of it all. My belly clenches, between my legs I grow hot and damp, and I bite my lip when he trails his fingers down my stomach until they’re toying with the waistband of my matching black panties.
“I can see through them,” he whispers, and I crack my eyes open to find his dark head bent, no doubt staring intently at the tiny scrap of material that’s barely covering me. “I really think you are trying to kill me.”
A soft burst of laughter escapes me and he glances up, a sexy smile curving his delicious lips. Tilting my head back, I brush my mouth with his, licking his lips, a soft moan escaping me when his tongue touches mine. I could get drunk off his kisses. His fingers are teasing me, sliding across my stomach, dipping just beneath the waistband of my flimsy panties, not quite reaching where I really want him to be.
“I think I’m going to enjoy this orgasm task,” he mutters against my mouth, making me laugh again. I love how blunt he is. How honest. Spending time with him is never, ever boring.
Especially now.
“Let’s take this off,” he murmurs, pushing my dress off my shoulders so it falls to the crook of my arms. I straighten them as he steps away and the dress flutters to the ground in a heap around my feet. I kick the fabric away, standing before him in just my panties and bra and my black heels.
His gaze drops, running up the length of my body, frank appreciation in his eyes. “Holy hell, woman.”
I feel hot from his words, the way he’s looking at me. Thrusting my chest out farther, I contemplate him, heat blooming between my legs when he studies my br**sts, no doubt seeing my ni**les poke against the thin fabric of my bra.
Without warning he’s on me, his mouth fused with mine, his hands cupping my br**sts, thumbs circling my ni**les. I arch into his touch, a long agonized groan escaping me when he tugs on my ni**les. The pleasurable pain shoots through me, landing between my legs, and I rub against his thigh, sparks of heat blistering through me.
“I want to f**k you right here. Against the wall.” His hand sinks into the front of my panties, finally touching me exactly where I want him. “So wet, Ivy. God.”
He sounds tortured. I feel tortured. Without thought I grab him, mold my hand around the length of his erection, stroking him over his jeans. I wish I could touch his bare skin. I wish I could go down on my knees and draw him into my mouth . . .
Deciding that’s the perfect idea, I frantically undo the snap and zipper on his jeans, shoving them down with impatient, shaky hands. They fall to his feet and he kicks them off, his mouth locked with mine once again, his hand between my legs. I ride that hand unashamedly, whimpering as his fingers work a sort of magic over me, and I lose myself in the sensation. My breaths leave me in shuddery exhales and I throw my head back, my eyelids fluttering as his fingers circle and stroke my clit again and again.
“Come for me, baby,” he whispers against my lips just before he kisses me. “Reach for it.”
A ragged little cry escapes me and I close my eyes, moaning when I feel his lips on the side of my neck. He drags his hot tongue over my skin as I grind against his palm and I’m close. So, so close, I’m almost afraid it’s not going to happen.
“I can feel you. Hot and clenching so tight around my finger. You want more, don’t you Ivy?”
His hot words send me straight into oblivion. My body is racked with tremors as my orgasm pulses through me, taking me completely over the edge until all I can do is ride the wave. I grip his shoulders for fear I might collapse as he continues to stroke me, his fingers feather light and so gentle I almost want to weep at how amazing his touch feels.
God. He makes me fall apart with a few hot kisses and delicious touches like some sort of sexual miracle.
As I slowly come back down to earth, I realize he’s still touching me, licking my collarbone, pressing up against me. I can feel his erection brush against my stomach, still covered by his boxer briefs, and I reach for him. Brush my fingers down the light trail of dark hair that lines a path from his navel downward. Sliding my hands beneath the waistband of his underwear, I touch bare, hard skin, my fingers curling around his length.
“Jesus, Ivy,” he chokes out.
Smiling, I slide my back down the wall until I’m level with his cock. Slowly I tug his underwear down, revealing him to my gaze, and his erection springs out toward me almost eagerly.
I feel just as eager. Exhilarated. Reaching for him, I curl my fingers around the base of him and lean in, dropping a kiss on the tip. His agonized groan fuels me and I lick him, wrap my lips around just the head as I suck and work him deeper.
“Not like this,” he gasps, tugging on me so hard I have no choice but to stand and face him again, my feet wobbly since I’m still wearing the damn heels. I’m about to kick them off when he rests his hand on my cheek, making me look up at him. “Keep the shoes on.”
Archer
THIS IS MY every fantasy come to life. Ivy in my arms, spent from the orgasm I just gave her. Ivy kneeling in front of me, drawing me into her mouth, her enthusiastic tongue whipping me into such a frenzy I knew I wouldn’t last long.
No way was I going to come too fast again. This time around, I want to make it last as long as possible. So I yank her to her feet and push impatiently at her tiny panties, wanting them off. Then I’m unsnapping her bra, watching her toss it to the floor before I’m on her again, nestled close, our mouths locked, our tongues dancing, my hands wandering.