She takes me in her mouth again and all thoughts fly out the window.
She sucks me like I’m her favorite damn lollipop and when I’m about to cum…
“Why are you stopping?” I ask.
She looks up at me from the floor, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “That’s your punishment for torturing me during dinner.”
I narrow my eyes. “Need I remind you of the torture you put me through too?”
She grins wickedly. “That’s what I was hoping for.”
Aw, fuck.
I reach for her, pulling her up from the floor. In less than a minute she’s naked before me and I bend her over the kitchen counter. She hisses at the feel of the cool granite, or whatever the fuck it is, against her tits.
“You like being punished, don’t you?” I ask her.
Before she can answer I spank her hard enough to leave behind the imprint of my hand.
“Ooh, I like that,” I growl and give her ass a squeeze.
She chokes out a soft plea.
I spank her again before I grab her hips and thrust inside her.
Home.
I’m home with her. Near her. In her.
I never knew what this was like, what you could possess with another person. I thought people were crazy talking about love like it could change everything.
But it does.
I don’t find myself looking at other girls or even wanting to because I have everything I could ever want with Mia Hayes. She’s beautiful, smart, sassy. She makes me laugh and I want to spend time with her doing things other than sex, which is something I could never say before.
“Hollis,” she breathes my name like a prayer, a plea.
I run my hand down her spine and she shivers, turning her head against the counter to look at me.
“Beautiful,” I mouth.
She moans, the sound music to my ears.
Not being able to hardly touch her all afternoon, and then the way we both teased each other during dinner … I’m not sure how long I can last.
I’ve been picturing her bent over in front of me for hours and now that this moment is here, my body wants to lose control, to fuck her senseless until we’re both cuming, collapsing to the floor in an exhausted heap.
She rises up, wrapping one arm around the back of my neck. I grab her chin roughly and kiss her. Her tongue tangles with mine and I groan. She tastes sweet, like the caramel ice cream she had for dessert.
Her fingers tangle in my hair and she gives it a tug. I hiss between my teeth and I feel her smile against my kiss.
I glide my other hand up her stomach, stopping at her throat.
“Do it,” she pleads.
I squeeze her throat. Not enough to completely close her airway, but enough to make it difficult. Her eyes roll back in her head.
“Yes,” she breathes.