Now, with my hands running the length of his muscled back down to grip his ass firmly, with his mouth on mine, his hands traveling lower and lower toward my leggings, I know nothing I imagined could have ever come close.
It’s ecstasy.
Pure, evil ecstasy.
Forbidden and full of risk but consuming in the way only the best things are.
Greg presses me even more into the wall as his kisses travel lower and lower, from my lips down my neck, over the swell of my breast, down my stomach, until he’s on his knees in front of me, his fingertips dipping into the band of my leggings.
Seeing him there — this powerful, muscle-lined man — crouched in front of my belly, I can’t help but cower.
I cover myself, my arms wrapping around my middle as words I’ve tried to fight against creep in.
Greg pauses, frowning at the movement, and then recognition hits.
He grabs my hands, stopping me from covering completely, and he kisses each fingertip soft and slow before putting my hands in his hair.
“Don’t cover up,” he whispers. “Not with me.”
I nearly cry when he looks up at me, when I feel the soft tendrils of his dark hair between my fingertips.
“I want all of you,” he continues, and with his eyes still on mine, he glides his thumbs under the band and slides my leggings down, down, down. “Every beautiful inch.”
He drops his gaze then, and though my leggings are out of the way — my panties, too — they’re both still wrapped around my calves, the fabric wet and restricting. But I don’t have time to awkwardly step out of them, because Greg’s hands slip around my waist, diving down to firmly palm my ass.
And then, he lowers his mouth to my aching core.
I suck in a breath at the first contact, feather-light and hot as his breath kisses my skin before his lips do. It’s a gentle kiss at first, but it still makes me tremble, and when he runs his tongue soft and easy over my clitoris, I buck my hips into the touch and let out the loudest moan of my life.
Greg squeezes my ass in response, helping me roll and give him better access. One hand holds me steady as he blindly lifts my other, and I use my hands on his shoulders to balance as he haphazardly rips my leggings off that foot and rests the back of my thigh on his shoulders.
“That’s better,” he muses, and then he descends, and I see nothing but fireworks and stars and blazing sunbeams when his mouth covers me again.
It pains me to know I’ve missed out on this all my life, this enticing feeling of having a man on his knees for me, of having him lick and suck and kiss the most sensitive place on my body. I always thought it wasn’t a big deal, that I wasn’t missing much.
God, was I wrong.
I savor every moment, even tapping into Greg’s stupid meditation woo-woo and focusing on the very spot where he licks me to stay firmly in this moment. I memorize the pattern he uses, the way his tongue alternates from long, flat licks to quick, calculated flicks that build my orgasm like an active volcano.
He’s so sure, so comfortable there, like he could spend his whole life pleasing me and never grow tired of it.
I, on the other hand, am desperate to do some pleasing of my own.
“Greg,” I whisper, and when he looks up at me, I gently tug on his elbows, urging him to stand.
He does so slowly, kissing every inch of the way back up, and then his mouth claims mine, and I taste the sweetest mixture of me and him on his tongue.
“I want you,” I whimper into his mouth.
He swallows the sound, grabbing me around the waist and blindly backing us up to the shower. One hand reaches behind me to turn on the faucet while the other holds me steady, and then his hands are in my hair, tugging, my chin coming up so he has better access to kiss me breathless.
He pauses, his eyes finding mine, breath erratic as he shakes his head.
“I need you.”
It’s like the words are a touch of their own, the weight of them slipping between the cracks of my soul and filling every single one. I nod, swallowing, and then I kiss him, hard and deep.
I reach for the band of his briefs, tugging at them before Greg helps me pull them the rest of the way down.
And then he’s standing there in front of me, completely bare, his cock hard and thick and lined with veins, the crown of it slick with pre-cum.
I gulp, staring, not knowing what to do, questioning if I’ll be good enough for him, if I’ll be able to please him the way he’s already pleased me.