Dylan (Inked Brotherhood 4)

“Right here,” I mutter, tugging on the silver hoop hanging from her ear. “We haven’t christened this room yet.”

She laughs, a soft exhale, and I flip her around to lick her smiling mouth. “Right here?” she whispers.

“Right here.” I suck on her lower lip, then pull away to look at her body from up close. “I’ve been fantasizing about it all fucking night. I want you on the table, naked, your legs around my back.”

“That’s specific,” she breathes as I push her down on the table.

“Very specific,” I agree. “With your hair loose, no make-up, no jewelry. Just dressed in your beautiful skin.”

She reaches up and unhooks the hoops from her ears. “Why?”

“Because.” I pull off her boots and let them fall to the floor, one by one. “You’re perfect the way you are.”

Her mouth quivers, then tilts up in a smile that makes her eyes shine. She places her earrings on the table as I unbutton her jeans and tug them off her shapely legs.

“All off?” she whispers, gripping the hem of her blouse. So sexy, lying on the table, her hair spread around her like sunshine.

“All off.” I watch her remove her blouse. Her bra pulls up, pushing her pretty tits together, and I lick my lips. Thirsty for her. Hungry. Famished.

She stretches back, only dressed in her panties and bra. They’re lilac lace, almost transparent, revealing as much as they’re hiding. The panties are small, barely covering the magical place between her legs, and her bra… It cups and pushes up her round breasts, and I’m hypnotized by the dark cleft between them.

“Oh, baby,” I murmur, not even sure what the hell I’m saying. “I’m the luckiest man on earth. You’re fucking hot. Hot as hell. Damn.”

She lifts herself up on her elbows, and damn if the position doesn’t make her tits look even more awesome, full, and threatening to spill from the lilac bra. Her nipples are peeking over the lace, and I reach up to touch them, making her suck in a sharp breath. I tease them with my thumbs, circling their hard tips, until she arches her neck, pushing her breasts into my hands.

The need to enter her, move inside her, is making me grit my teeth. To control myself, I bend over her and scrape my teeth over her breasts, then tease one, then the other with my tongue. Her breathing grows faster, harsher. She squirms and moans softly as I reach behind her and unclasp her bra, so I can take if off.

And when it’s off, she’s even sexier than before, if that’s fucking possible, the roundness of her tits making me want to nestle my hard-on between them and rock until I come.

“Shit.” I have to reach down and squeeze my dick, or else I’ll come in my pants right now. That fantasy will have to wait its turn. It’s just that I want to rub my cock on every part of her, mark her every way I can. Tell her she’s mine, as she should have been all this time.

“Dylan…” she whispers, writhing on the table top, all silken hair, slender limbs, and mouthwatering curves. “Please.”

A growl rises in my throat as I grab the flimsy little thing that functions as her panties and rip it down her legs. I don’t even see where it lands. In two seconds flat, I’ve unzipped my fly, pushed my pants and briefs down, freeing my throbbing cock.

Breathe in, breathe out. Control. I grab my dick and give it a reassuring squeeze. Soon, buddy. Very soon.

I put my hands on her smooth legs and part them. I run my forefinger down her exposed pussy. It’s wet and luscious, perfect like the rest of her, and I can gaze at it and play with it for hours.

Not today, though. I need her right fucking now. I push a finger inside her, and groan out loud when she tightens around it. Oh, fuck. That’s it. No more waiting.

I pull my finger out, grab my cock and push into her in one long thrust. She cries out, bending her knees, giving me better access. The heat, the pressure is incredible. She’s incredible. I grab her thighs and push deeper, the muscles in my legs trembling with the urge to start moving.

“You okay?” I ask, the words barely making it past my clenched teeth.

“Yes,” she whispers and rocks her hips, fucking herself on my cock. “Please, Dylan. I need you. Please.”

Shit, I can feel the orgasm building in the back of my balls, and she’s stil

l moving, gliding up and down my twitching dick.

“Hold on,” I grunt, pulling her legs higher, locking them around my hips. I then brace my hands on either side of her head on the table, draw out an inch or two, and slam back inside.

We both cry out this time. Her nails screech on the wood, her legs tighten around my hips. My hips piston in and out of her, my cock sliding in and out of her rippling passage. My vision is narrowing into a long tunnel, and the only sound I can hear is my panting breaths. My stomach clenches. My balls lift. Our bodies rock together, faster and faster, sweat slicking our skin, and I look up into her eyes as the first shock of pleasure slams into me.

I love you, I think, or maybe I say it, right before my dick jerks and my mind goes white. Wave after wave rolls through me, and she starts contracting around my hard-on as she comes, too, taking my breath away.

She presses her mouth to my shoulder, stifling her cries, her pussy milking me until I think I’ll pass out from the pleasure.