Ruthless Rival

He pulls the strings.

The sides fall open, exposing my breasts, stomach, thighs.

All of me.

On display for him.

Because he wants to savor the sight.

Because it turns me on.

Again, he studies me, noting every inch of my skin with interest and delight. His eyes pass over me slowly, from the top of my head to my bare toes, then back up.

He looks me in the eyes as he brings his hand to my chest.

He pulls me into a soft, slow kiss. Then he turns me, so I'm in front of him, facing the mirror, watching him toy with my nipple.

Fuck.

I nearly come on the spot. It's almost too much. Too intense.

But I need more.

All of him.

I watch him toy with me.

Slow circles of his thumb on my tender flesh.

He brings his lips to my neck. Scrapes his teeth against my skin as he toys with me.

Again and again.

Winding me tighter.

Filling me with anticipation.

Again and again.

Until I'm sure I can't take it anymore.

Then, still, more.

I rock my hips against him. Feel his cock, hard against my ass. All that fabric in the way. Too many fucking layers in the way.

I need him inside me.

Now.

But, still, he teases.

I rock against him, again.

He groans against my neck. Brings a hand to my hip, pulling my body against his. So I feel him closer.

Fuck.

He slips his hand between my legs. Draws slow circles against my clit.

I need more.

But I need this too.

"Simon." It falls off my lips like a curse.

He moves to my other nipple. The other side of my neck. Teases me. Gives me what I need.

Soft brushes of his thumb.

Slow circles.

Winding me tighter and tighter.

Almost.

Fuck.

There.

I come fast, rocking my hips, tugging at his slacks, watching his hand move between my legs.

Watching him get me off.

He works me through my orgasm, then he brings his hand to my waist. Moves backward to lead me to his armchair.

He sits.

Pulls me onto his lap.

Looks up at me, cupping my cheek with his palm, staring with equal parts devotion and desire.

It means something.

Everything maybe.

But I'm lost in a haze of bliss and need.

I need him inside me.

I need his skin against mine.

I undo the buttons of his shirt, feel the soft skin covering hard muscles.

The tattoo above his hip. The Simon no one else sees.

I do away with the shirt, undo his belt, unzip his slacks.

He shifts his hips to do away with the clothes.

Simon Pierce, under me, in only boxers.

Then nothing.

Fuck.

He brings his hands to my hips, and he pulls my body into his.

No condom this time.

Only his body against mine.

My sex brushes his cock. It's only a tease, but it's so fucking intense this way.

All of him.

All of me.

I raise my hips to tease him again.

Again.

Again.

He presses his palm into the space between my shoulders and pulls my chest to his mouth.

His lips close around my nipple.

Soft suction.

Then harder.

Fuck.

I turn to the mirror. Savor the sight.

His lips against my skin.

The purple robe, falling at the sides, exposing my chest, stomach, thighs, but leaving me regal and powerful, while he's naked under me.

Right now, he really is mine.

I watch as I lower my body onto his. Watch as I take him.

Then I do it again.

Again.

It's already too much, the fullness of his cock inside me, the perfect pressure of his lips, the sight of our bodies joining.

I have to close my eyes.

I have to pull him back and bring my hips to his.

I kiss him as I ride him.

Harder.

Deeper.

With every fucking thing I have.

He brings his hands to my hips, guiding me over him again and again.

I break our kiss. Bring my hands to his shoulders. Use the chair for leverage.

He brings his lips back to my chest, toying with my nipple as I ride him.

The two of us moving together, bringing each other bliss, watching, finding more in the sight.

A perfect circle of pleasure.

Again and again.

It's intense.

Almost too much.

Then I look to the mirror, and I watch him slide into me, and I fall over the fucking edge.

My sex pulses as I come. It's hard, intense, so much I'm sure I'm going to push him out.

But I only bring him closer.

His fingers dig into my thighs. Hard but not rough. Only enough, I feel his need.

His bliss.

It's intoxicating.

I need more of it.

All of it.

I ride him again and again.

His eyes flutter together.

His lips part with a moan.

"Fuck me, Simon." I knot my hand in his hair. "Come inside me." The words surprise me.

I've never said them before.

Never savored the idea.

But I want it so fucking badly.

I drive over him again and again.

The rhythm he needs.

Until he's there, groaning my name as his cock pulses inside me.

It's different without the condom.

Closer, deeper, more intense.

He spills every drop.

I collapse on his chest.

He holds me close, like I really am his, like he really wants this to be forever.

I stay in his arms a long time. Until my legs are sore.