Kerri
One kiss—that’s all it takes. The moment our lips touch, I know I’m doomed. All self-control, all thoughts of right and wrong… It all goes out the window with one simple kiss.
Lucien presses his body against mine, pushing me back against the wall. His hands go to my waist, his long fingers over the small patch of skin between my shirt and pants. There’s no fighting this. How could I? After spending so much time thinking of him, imagining his naked body against mine, my sentence is set in stone.
I let out a small sigh as his lips go to my neck, desire rippling through me as his full lips explore my skin. My nipples are already hardening, straining against the fabric of my bra and pleading for his touch.
I know I should put an end to this. My job, my whole career—all that is in jeopardy right now. But, somehow, my brain can’t process any of that. With each passing second the real world becomes just a distant nuisance, like the echoed memory of some long forgotten dream. Only his touch matters to me now… His lips, his hands. His muscular chest pressed tight against mine.
My eyes are closed, but I don’t need to see. I let my hands guide me, my fingertips going up his neck as I explore the hard features of his square jaw line and high cheekbones. I go up to his hair, running my fingers through and disheveling it, my heart beating faster than ever. How many times have I dreamed of this? Too many to count. And now, fantasy has become reality, and it couldn’t be any better.
A shiver goes through my spine as he slides his hands up the side of my body, running them up to my hair. There, he hooks his fingers in it, yanking and forcing me to throw my head back and expose my neck. His slightly parted lips give way to a row of perfect white teeth, and he nibbles at the tender skin on my neck, all of me surrendering to Lucien Stone.
Still gripping my hair, he lets one hand fall down to my waist and then, burying his fingers on my exposed flesh, forces me to turn on my heels. I offer no resistance, my hands going to the cold wall as I turn to face it. He laces my waist with his arm and I jut my ass back, immediately feeling the bulging inside his pants squeezing itself against my buttocks.
I lean forward against the wall, my forehead pressed against it while he takes both his hands to my waist and, grabbing my pants, pushes them down to my knees. My skin prickles as I feel the cool air lapping at it, and I can’t help but bite down on my lower lip as I imagine Lucien’s eyes tracing the contour of my ass, my small black thong the only barrier between me and him.
Placing the back of his hand behind my knee, he slides his fingers up my leg, only his knuckles brushing against my skin. He goes up to my buttocks and then starts to trace the contour of my thong, going all the way to my groin. Another sigh leaves my lips as his fingertips go back and forth, my pussy growing wetter by the second.
Before this, every time I thought of Lucien I became wet, my body pleading to be close to him, but now that he’s on me, the state I’m in doesn’t even compare. Everything in me is burning, desire like an anchor on my mind, pushing it down into a sea of forbidden lust. And it feels amazing.
I hold my breath as his lips travel from my neck to my ear, and then he whispers.
“Spread your legs,” he says, a commanding tone in each of his words. The moment I hear him, I move, my body reacting on instinct. There’s something about him—something wild and primal—that leaves no space for defiance. Whatever he tells me to do, I know I’ll do it.
As soon as I spread my legs, he grabs my thong and pulls it against the side of my thigh. I grit my teeth as he stretches the fabric, only stopping after the sound of it ripping reaches my eardrums. He throws it to the side like a used rag, and I suddenly feel exposed, my cheeks flushing as I imagine him looking at my naked ass.
There’s no time for being coy, though. I breathe out sharply as he smacks my right buttock, the open palm of his hand hitting me with enough strength to leave a mark. He does it again, this time on the left side, and a trembling moan leaves my lips. Just the sound of it is enough to drive me crazy; it’s dry and firm, like a gunshot, and it tells me that being with him will be unlike anything I've ever done.
I tremble with anticipation as he places one finger on my inner thigh, moving it upward toward my pussy. He takes his time, brushing his fingertip against me before going for it… but the moment he touches me there, it’s Heaven.
His touch is gentle and patient, his finger barely touching my labia as he moves it along the length of my pussy, toward my clitoris. When he reaches it, he presses slightly down and all hell breaks loose inside of me. I close my eyes, my breathing growing ragged as the whip of desire lashes at me. My heart drumming hard inside my chest, I move my hips back, desperately trying to make him slide his fingers in me.
“Don’t move,” he whispers against my ear again. His words are soft, but there’s no room for doubt: I will obey him.
“I won’t,” I tell him, willing my legs to remain still as I submit to his torture of anticipation: I’m dripping wet right now, and still he keeps teasing me, moving his finger back and forth over my labia. Breathing out slowly, I try to keep my composure, but it gets harder any time his finger brushes against my clit. He applies perfect pressure—not too much, not too little—leaving his finger there for just enough time to leave me wanting more.
When he pushes past my labia, his finger sliding just an inch in, I brace myself for an explosion of pleasure. But it doesn’t come; instead of sliding his finger in all the way, he only prods, moving it back and forth and driving me completely insane. I have to resist the urge to push my hips back against him, my insides shouting for more.
“Be patient,” he tells me, his finger circling the opening between my labia. I try to respond, to say that I can’t be patient, but the only thing that leaves my throat is a small groan. I can’t think straight, let alone form a coherent sentence.
Then, perhaps feeling my desperation, he flicks his wrist and slides his finger all the way in. I hold my breath as I feel him inside of me, just a taste of what’s to come—yes, somehow I know that there’s a lot more to come. The shackles of self-control have fallen off my mind, and now there’s no going back.
He holds his position, his finger deep inside me, pressed hard against my inner sweet spot. Only when he starts to slowly slide his finger out do I breathe again, my brain suddenly remembering that I need to do it in order to keep alive; it’s easy to forget about these things when the only thing your body wants is pleasure.
There’s a smooth cadence to my breathing now, one that matches the rhythm of his finger. He moves it in hard, and then slowly back out, taking his time with me. The more he does it, the more I ache to really feel him inside of me. Memories of his hard cock flash behind my closed eyelids, and I feel my mouth going dry at the thought of being with someone like him—after all, a member that size is something very new to me. I can’t help but wonder if it’s going to hurt… But then again, what if it hurts? It will be worth it, every second of it. And how do I k
now this? I don’t; I feel it deep inside of me, much in the same way I know the sun rises in the morning and sets in the evening.
He starts to go faster, my breathing growing harsher each time I feel him deep inside of me. A moan climbs up from my throat to my lips as he slides one more finger inside, pushing it all the way in with one single movement. I press my forehead against the wall, my eyes shut as tension spreads from my pussy to all of my limbs. Like the calm before the storm, I know one is brewing deep inside me.
I come the moment he slides his two fingers in, curling them upwards like a hook against my G-spot. I moan, the sound bouncing off the walls and filling the room, and he presses harder against me. He keeps still as waves of pleasure make my muscles twitch, my chin trembling as I struggle to keep breathing.
“This is just the start,” he whispers, breathing deeply over my neck and taking my scent in. I purr as he slides his fingers out, and then my lips curl into a smile as he wipes his fingers off my juices on my buttocks. My body still twitching, I let my hand dart behind me and against his chest. Without seeing what I’m doing, I let my fingers go down the front of his shirt, and I only stop when I find what I’m looking for: a hard bulge between his legs, one that holds promises of unspeakable delight. I curl my fingers around it, electricity shocking my brain as I think of the possibilities.
I move my hand up and down, stroking him over his trousers, but I can’t do it for long; I need to feel him on me, inside me, not just on my hand. Letting go, I let my fingers go over to his waist, and then I hook them on his pants; I tug them down hurriedly, his cock brushing against the back of my hand. It feels as if my heart is going to burst from anxiety, my body desperately craving him inside me.
Before I can push his cock down and between my legs, he grabs me by the wrist. He pins it against the wall harshly, restraining me, and then presses his body against mine. His length between my ass cheeks, he presses even harder, my body close to the boiling point. It’s hard to be patient when he’s so close, and when I can feel his unbridled desire for me… But, fighting against all of my instincts, I do it, even though what my body demands is for me to turn around and guide him home.