He reaches over his head, grabs the back of his t-shirt, and pulls it off. I don’t think his eyes ever leave mine. There is that brief moment when the shirt is blocking us, but his gaze never wanders. It stays true to mine.
His expression isn’t one I’m used to. I can’t quite put my finger on it. Not lust. Not love. Something in between.
Longing, maybe.
Both his hands cup my face and I know he’s going to kiss me. It’s mere moments away, but I can’t wait any longer. I lean up on my tiptoes, gripping his shoulders, and press my lips to his.
Our kiss is a lingering moment of eternity where there is no tongue, no breath, no nothing.
And then it is everything.
His mouth opens and I respond to this. I can’t kiss him hard enough. I can’t twist my tongue around his fast enough. And all the while his hands are slowly caressing their way down my body. First the lightest touch on my neck. And this softness, in combination with the punishing kiss, almost makes me lose my mind. I moan and I feel his smile. Then the back of his knuckles trace down over my breasts. Even with the t-shirt between us, I feel this like I am bare. My nipples perk up immediately and he takes them both between his fingertips and squeezes.
I moan again.
His hands slip underneath my t-shirt, sliding their way up my ribcage. His palms cup my breasts, holding them like they are something special. I suck in a breath and before I can let it out again, he’s got my shirt over my head and he’s walking me backwards. One step, two, three—I bump into the wall and there’s nowhere left to go as he pulls back from the kiss.
Our eyes lock and he grins. His hands slide up to my throat as his mouth presses against my sternum, his lips fluttering against my bare skin as he kneels down, leaving a trail of tingles across my lower belly.
I stop breathing when his hands follow. Then his fingertips hook inside the elastic of my panties and slowly—so fucking slowly—he inches them down my thighs until they are about halfway between my knees and my hips.
One hand on the inside of my knee makes me open my legs for him. And he wastes no time. His mouth is right there. Right where I want it. His tongue darting out to flick against my clit. Then he sucks on it and I almost lose my mind.
But then he slides a finger inside me and I realize—I might not even know what it feels like to lose my mind in sex. I lose all doubt that I have ever been properly pleasured by a man in my life when he slides another finger up inside me and begins to pump them in and out as his tongue flicks and glides over my sweet spot.
I grab his hair, bunching it up in my fingers as my hips take on a life of their own and begin pressing closer to him. I want to feel his scratchy chin against my soft inner thighs. I want to press myself into his face as he spreads me open and licks my pussy.
Then I am losing control. I don’t want to come yet. I want to make this last forever.
But Vic says, “It’s fine, Daisy,” in a so-soft voice. “You can come right now if you want. I will make you come again, and again, and again before this night is over.”
Then he stands back up, his kisses punishing my lips again, his teeth nipping. One hand slides around the back of my head, gripping my hair the way I was just gripping his. His other hand is fucking me, his fingers sliding in and out of my sopping wet pussy.
And I’m fucking him back. My body is losing control, my hips grinding against his as I reach for his hard cock through his jeans.
He fingers me harder, his push and pull more forceful. And then I don’t know what comes over me. I shudder and shiver, and then there is wetness everywhere.
“Holy fuck,” Vic moans past my lips. Then his face is sliding back down my body, his tongue licking my skin until he stops on my pussy again and sucks me off as I writhe against the wall, my fingernails digging into his hard, muscular shoulders.
I’m squirting, I realize. This man has turned me on in a way most women only dream of and I am losing it.
I come.
There is no way not to. I come as his tongue slides past my clit and his fingers pump in and out. I moan, and pant, and then my thighs are quaking from the release.
He slides my panties the rest of the way down my legs and scoops me up, his hands under my ass, his mouth on mine, letting me taste myself. Then he carries me deeper into the apartment. And I have to chuckle when I realize he never got past the door before the lust took over.