She groaned and I slid one hand down her stomach and over her mound.
“So greedy.” Holding my fingers together, I started to rub big circles over her slit. She pushed against me, trying to feel my fingers in her folds. I moved away. She snapped her head around to look at me.
“You’re so wound up,” I said. “We’ve only just started.”
She turned. “I want to suck you,” she said.
I nodded. “I know. Later. Now you need to turn back around so I can make you feel good.”
“I don’t think I’m going to last long. It’s almost like the less you touch me, the more I want it.”
I raised my eyebrows. “That’s the point, Sofia.”
She sighed and turned back around, placing her hands deliberately on the counter. She remained upright, though, and I curled one arm around her waist, keeping her in place as I slid my hand back down. I allowed just one finger to slip between her folds, giving her just a little more.
“Sex is more than fucking.” If it hadn’t been for her heat, her wetness, the short, sharp breaths in my ear, I might have been able to hold back. But I yearned for more of her, and I pushed a second finger into her folds and began to stroke, forward and back. “Sex is about feeling, anticipation. About understanding.”
She moaned and her fingers curled against the countertop.
“I want to drive you to the brink . . . and pull you right back. Over and over and over. I’ll understand your body then. I’ll know exactly how much I can touch, press, suck before you go under. I’ll know what you like and how your body responds, and you’ll know too.” I slid another finger inside her and grazed her clit with my thumb.
She grabbed my wrist. “I’m so close.”
I stilled and smiled against the skin of her neck. She got it. Despite her protestations, she wanted it to be as good as we both knew it could be.
“So quickly, Sofia. You’re riled up tonight.”
She sighed, her body sagging against mine. “For you.”
Blood rushed to my flint-hard cock and I swallowed. Shit, this woman.
My fingers went back to work, pushing and circling, slow at first and then faster and faster. Sofia’s body tensed and I removed my hands. “Breathe,” I instructed.
She inhaled deeply, once and then twice, pushing her orgasm down and away. Moments like this were meant to last.
“I’m shaking,” she said, holding her trembling hand up to show me. “I feel . . .”
“Lightheaded,” I finished her sentence for her. “It’s the adrenaline mixed with the anticipation. Take a small sip of water.”
As she took her glass, I removed my shirt. Time to switch things up. If I touched her again, however softly, she was going to explode. And I wanted to be inside her when that happened. She watched hungrily as I stripped. I enjoyed her attention on me, my cock rearing under her scrutiny.
“Now do I get to taste you?” Her expression was pleading and I wasn’t about to deny her.
I pulled out a chair from the dining table opposite the kitchen island and took a seat.
Sofia didn’t take her eyes off my dick as she followed me over and knelt at my feet.
“I don’t want a hand job,” I said. “I want to feel your mouth, your tongue, and the back of your throat, and that’s it. You hear?” If she wanted to suck me then I wanted to be sucked. I never enjoyed a blow job that was more hands than mouth. I didn’t like people who didn’t commit to whatever they were doing. And I didn’t like women who pretended to like giving blow jobs. My rule in life was to do something properly or don’t fucking bother.
She nodded while securing her hair in a thick knot at the top of her head. A nice touch. Smoothing her hands up my thighs, she caught my crown between her lips and I exhaled.
I bet Sofia didn’t know how to give a bad blow job.
A pang of jealousy caught in my chest and it interrupted the feel of Sofia’s tongue, just for a second. I frowned. It was a new sensation for me to think about anything when a woman had my dick in her mouth, let alone other lovers she may have been with. Jealousy? That was definitely new. It felt primal and instinctive. But why would I feel jealous? I wasn’t some neanderthal who only fucked virgins. I liked women who enjoyed their sexuality. So what was my problem?
The drag of Sofia’s almost too-sharp teeth brought me back to the moment. Fuck, she was good.
She glanced at me, and as her eyes met mine, I had the urge to kiss her.
“Sofia,” I said, stroking her cheek.
She pulled back, looking at me like a student about to get a critique of their work from a favorite teacher.