Wright that Got Away (Wright)

He moved lower, trailing kisses across my stomach, and then lower. He drew my knee up and added a kiss to it. Then, he slid to his knees on the floor and began to ravage every inch of my milky-white skin, leading up, up, up. I quivered under his practiced tongue as he met the edge of my panties.

“Please,” I begged, not caring the slightest about what I sounded like.

He made a noise of approval at that word. Then, he hooked his finger into the side of my panties and pulled it aside. The first touch of him against my core drew another moan from my lips. He pushed my legs farther apart, letting them fall open. Then, he slid his thumb up and down across the folds of my pussy. Every part of me quivered. My body was so starved for his attention that I could barely hold on.

“This?” he asked as he pushed one finger inside of me.

“Oh God, yes.”

“More?”

He slid in another finger, curling inward and then dragging slowly back out.

“More,” I pleaded. I couldn’t be satisfied with just his fingers. I needed all of him.

He wrenched my underwear over my hips and discarded them carelessly to the side before diving back in, licking and sucking my clit. My hands fisted into the couch as I came apart at his ministrations. And I couldn’t be quiet even if I wanted to. There was no hope for me as he circled my clit with his tongue and worked his fingers in and out of me. There was only hanging on for dear life and praying that I came out on the other side.

My breathing grew heavy. I was panting on the couch. As my body built into a crescendo, I held on tighter, knowing what was coming.

“Fuck,” I gasped when I finally tipped over the edge. My body shuddered and contracted around his fingers. My vision dipped and blurred. And after it all came down, I curled in on myself with a soft groan of pleasure.

He kissed my hip and sat back on his heels with a satisfied grin. “I like watching you come.”

I flushed. Even after all that.

With a short laugh at my embarrassment, he hoisted me up and threw me over his shoulder.

I gasped, scrambling for purchase while I dangled over his back. “What are you doing?”

“Carrying you.”

“Oh my God, I can walk.”

He slapped my ass playfully. “Not if I can help it.”

“Awfully cocky,” I said as we stepped into his bedroom.

He flipped me forward, letting my back fall onto the bed. “I just watched you come on my fingers.” He went to work on his shirt, opening button after button. He wrenched it out of his pants and ripped open the black belt at his waist. “I think I have a right to be a little cocky.”

I leaned back on my elbows and watched the show reveal the six-pack that I distinctly did not remember from high school. And the V-line that dipped down into his pants. I salivated as he popped the button on his pants and let them hang open for my imagination to go wild.

He crooked a finger at me, and I moved toward him, drawn like a moth to a flame. His finger came under my chin and tipped it upward. “Now, imagine what it’s going to be like on my cock.”

I licked my lips. Oh, I could imagine. I remembered what it had been like eight years ago, and Campbell was more muscular, more confident than he’d been then. We’d learned together. Now, we were older and wiser, and we had all the time we wanted to enjoy it. He might be cocky, but I’d bet he had reason to be.

He pressed one more kiss to my mouth before lifting me back onto my feet and turning me away from him. He tugged the zipper slowly down my back until it reached the base of my spine. Then, he pushed the sleeves over my shoulders. The dress was tight, but with little resistance, it fell to a heap on the ground.

“That’s better,” he said as I spun around.

He withdrew his cock from his boxers and stroked it once, twice, three times. I looked on the whole time, salivating at how little he cared that I was watching him touch himself. He wanted me to see exactly what I’d done to him. How he could barely contain himself in my presence.

I stepped forward and took him in my hand. He inhaled sharply at my first touch.

“Fuck,” I murmured.

“Yes,” he said through his teeth. His eyes were closed. “Fuck, baby. Fuck.”

I felt so powerful. This international superstar was barely able to stand before me, helpless for wanting me. It was sometimes difficult to pull apart the layers of Campbell because when he fell to his feet, he was just the boy I’d loved, but as he’d unabashedly stroked his cock, he’d turned into the rockstar. And I found that I liked both versions. I wanted both.