Willow ran her hands across his chest, smiling a little absently, then she leaned down, her long hair falling over her shoulder as she did, tickling his sides as she bent to place a kiss just below his collar bone. Dropping a kiss every inch or so, she made her way down his chest to his stomach, her tongue darting out when she got to his abs, leaving a hot wet trail that caused him to jerk, his erection butting up against her. When she got to the top of his waistband, she paused. Instead of continuing with her mouth, she shoved her hand down the front, taking hold of his cock and beginning a back and forth motion, firm enough that his fingers were digging into the bed sheets, but not hard enough that she was going to get him off—which he assumed was the point.
Exquisite torture.
Not grabbing her and taking control was going to kill him. Death by blue balls. Clearly he had not realized what he was signing up for.
“Does that feel good?” she asked sweetly.
“Fuck yes.”
Willow grinned, seeming pleased with herself.
Then she stopped.
Apparently not satisfied with his level of discomfort, she scooted down his legs and began leaving soft kisses across his stomach again, but that time she moved her face past the hem, opened her mouth, and ran her mouth over his erection through the fabric.
Expelling something like a hiss, he moved his hands underneath his body to keep from touching her.
“Can I kiss you?” she asked quietly.
No. “Yes.”
It was a line he hadn’t been prepared to cross, but as she pushed her long locks back over her shoulder and pressed her warm body against his, her mouth tentatively seeking his, his brain wasn’t functioning fast enough to come up with a
good enough reason why not.
Her lips were soft, shy at first as she leaned more fully against him. He shifted, his hands escaping, gravitating to her body, one lightly caressing its way up her back, the other moving to cup her face, then trail around the back of her head to tug her closer. The kiss she was giving him was nice, but if he was going to cross the line, he wanted a little more than that.
Her body tensed slightly when she felt his tongue, but she opened her mouth just a little and kissed him back. Desire coiled in his loins as she deepened the kiss he had initiated, lust making him ache as Willow rested a hand on his shoulder and the other found his hair again, her fingers making their way through the soft, dark mass. Her kiss turned a little more frantic, her tongue a little bolder. When she started moaning, grinding against his cock, he thought he might explode in the more literal sense.
Before he realized what he meant to do, his hands found the clasp of her bra and he unfastened it; she didn’t object, didn’t even break the kiss as she let go of him to finish taking the damn thing off.
And then her breasts were free, and as his palm connected with the first one, she pushed it against him even harder—eager. She was breathing hard, squirming, moaning, and the thought flitted through his mind that if he asked her right then, she would probably let him fuck her.
But she wasn’t thinking.
So he didn’t ask.
When she finally broke the kiss to come up for air, he could see the frustration on her face—she was turned on, just as much as he was.
Obviously she hadn’t accounted for that.
Before she had a chance to resume the kiss, he put both hands behind her bare back and pressed her up against him until he had the peak of one breast between his lips. Her body arched as he trapped it between his teeth and she released a helpless little moan, tilting her head back and closing her eyes as his mouth closed around her nipple and his tongue began to play with it.
Then she brought her own hand up to cup the other one—squeezing, kneading herself, and one of the hands on her back lost control, his nails lightly scoring her skin as he dragged them down her back. She gasped in surprise, but then little noises of pleasure escaped her and there was no sign of displeasure—none whatsoever.
When he released her breast, she opened her eyes and looked at him, her eyes a little wild, and then she was on him again, pressing her pelvis against his cock purposefully, her mouth devouring his. After she ground against him a few more times, he actually had to stop her, because he was dangerously close to coming.
“Do you want to stop?” he asked.
He barely let out the question and she ground out, “No.”
“Can I touch you?”
“You can do anything you want to me,” she said a touch breathlessly.
Jesus Christ, as if he wasn’t turned on enough already.
Since she had said that though, he figured he could take just a little more leeway. Flipping her over so that her back was against the bed and he was above her, he replied, “How’s that?”