Leaving his cock for now, his hands went to my body. He pulled my dress open a little wider, then let his hands cup my breasts. He squeezed them roughly, then weighed them in his palms. “Heavy. You’re definitely a mom I’d like to fuck.” He let out a low laugh, then found the edges of the cups and slipped his hands beneath them.
I moaned, a muffled sound thanks to the panties in my mouth.
“You like that?” he said, more accusation than question. “You’re a dirty mom, aren’t you?”
His fingers were hot against my skin as he moved the fabric of my bra aside. He cradled my breasts, letting cool air hit my nipples, hardening them. Then he ran his thumbs over the pebbled tips. Heat shot through my body, tingles running over my skin until I felt like I was on fire.
He leaned forward, popping a nipple into his mouth. I let out another muffled moan as his tongue licked at it. Then I felt his teeth graze over the point, worrying at it just to the point of pain. Then he pulled back.
His dark eyes met mine, lust making them like black pits. His right hand left my breast, trailing over my exposed stomach. My poor, destroyed dress had only a few buttons left and they were covering my bare crotch. His hand moved there, over the top of the material, pressing it against my mound.
I murmured his name, but it came out as a muffled whimper.
“You’re responsive. A little desperate?” he teased, his hand moving to my thighs, massaging me over the fabric. “Nothing but a vibrator at home to take care of you? Don’t worry, baby. I’ll take care of you. But I’m going to get mine, too. You’re going to give me everything, Diana, and you’re going to love it.”
His hand finally found bare skin again at my knee. Slipping beneath the fabric, he trailed up along the inside of my thigh, dragging the fabric with his hand. I felt the hotness of his touch collide with the coolness of the air in The Cut. The dichotomy had me shivering with desire, my muscles twitching with need.
It felt like it was taking him ages, but he finally found my pussy. He barked out a quick laugh. “Oh, you are wet. Filthy little thing, aren’t you?” His thumb stroked over my already wet and swollen outer lips, so close to where I needed him, but so far. I tried to move, attempting to get closer to him, but he just laughed again.
His left hand was still playing with my exposed breast, twisting and tugging at my nipple, then squeezing my flesh again. But that right hand…oh, it was like fire, burning a trail slowly closer to my core, lingering along the edges of my womanly heat.
I wanted to beg him to just touch me, but found only muffled whimpering escape me.
After what could have been an eternity, his thumb slipped between my folds to find my aching opening. He plunged inside and I let out a relieved, stifled scream. “Tight,” he grunted. “Been a while?”
Not that he cared. After finding my opening, he pulled his thumb out only to replace it with three fingers instantly. I felt stretched; it had been a while. He pumped them in and out of me, curling them now and again to massage my inner walls. My hips moved against him, my body trying to get even closer as it finally got what it needed.
As his fingers probed my core, his thumb slipped up higher until he found my clit. He flicked at it and my whole body jerked as I moaned. “Mmm, needy, aren’t you? I know you at least touch yourself here after the lights are turned out. While you’re huddled under your covers. Sliding your hands into your panties…or maybe you just sleep without them. You seem like the type. Just in case someone like me sneaks into your room at night to fuck you. You know that’s what I’m going to do, right? Fuck you.”
I nodded, desperate for him to make good on his words.
He continued to finger me, three inside my core and his thumb torturing my clit. It was driving me crazy and his words only egged me on, made me hotter and wetter.
I was trembling as he touched me, his thumb moving faster and faster until I felt the pressure build. My body screamed, on the verge of release when—
He stopped.
That bastard stopped. My eyes, which had fallen closed in my ecstasy, snapped open and fixed on him. I’d have yelled at him if I hadn’t been gagged, and maybe I would have spit out my panties, if I didn’t see where his hand had moved to. He was now gripping his hardness, stroking his length.