Suddenly, he flipped me over, and he was on top of me, his hand moving up between my legs and cupping my pussy through my panties. I groaned and tipped my head back as he pressed his fingers against me through the fabric, just lightly, as he grazed his mouth against mine for the briefest moment. He grinned as I groaned and tried to kiss him deeply, and he pulled back a little further.
“I like you like this,” he remarked softly, leaning down to murmur the words into my ear and trace my skin with his breath. “Needy.”
“Mmm,” I moaned desperately, unable to articulate in any meaningful way what I wanted from him, what I needed so badly. His body felt so good on top of mine, the weight of him holding me to that bed. Instead of feeling trapped, I felt safe as though he was protecting me, holding me close and tight in his arms. I could feel his erection pressing into me, and I knew it wouldn’t be long until he would need to fuck me. Until then, he seemed keen to make me wait, to make me beg. I wriggled beneath him, arching my back so I could press my hips up against him, and he began to undo the zipper of the dress I had put on that morning. His fingers were deft and swift and controlled, but I could see the flicker behind his eyes, the one that told me he was an inch or two away from just throwing me down, ripping my panties off, and fucking me raw right here and now.
He stripped me down till I was in nothing but my panties, and then flipped me over on the bed. He was still fully dressed, and something about that smart suit next to the debauchery of what we were doing was almost too much to take. I sighed with pleasure as he traced the outline of my body with his hands, running them from my shoulders down to my ass. Then, to my surprise, he leaned down and planted a kiss on each of my cheeks down there. I wriggled.
“What are you doing?” I asked, glancing around at him. He had a deviant grin on his face, one that I recognized well, and I had a feeling the best thing I could do at that moment was shut up and let him work his magic.
“You’ll see,” he replied, and he pulled my panties over my hips and tossed them aside. He tugged me up a little so my ass was pointed toward him, and he kissed me again. I moaned, his mouth anywhere on me more than I could take. Then, to my surprise, he leaned in and brushed his tongue against my ass.
“Oh.” I wriggled on the bed once more, as his tongue began to probe me lightly back there. It felt odd for a moment, but then it mellowed into a pleasure I had never felt before in my life. He took his hand and moved it between my legs, slipping a couple of fingers inside of me, and the mixture of sensations made my toes curl.
“Good?” he asked, pulling back for a moment, and all I could do was nod helplessly.
“Good,” I confirmed, and he turned his attention back to me. Before I knew it, I was hopelessly lost to what he was doing.
I’d never had anyone do anything like this to me before. I had never wanted to. In fact, before I met Kristo, I had never really been with a man who seemed to appreciate my body the way he did. With my previous lovers, it had always felt as though they were kind of going through the motions like they knew they had to bring some pleasure to me before they fucked me but were only doing it because they knew I might think badly of them if I didn’t. But the way Kristo touched me, the way he kissed me and pleasured me and pushed me to come, I knew this wasn’t just a show for him. He groaned as he pushed his tongue deeper into me, moving in long, slow strokes that made my entire body tense up as he fucked me with his fingers.
“Fuck,” I groaned. It felt incredible. He was moving his other hand all over my body – my breasts, my back, tugging lightly on my hair, sinking his fingers into my thighs like he was reminding himself what I felt like. He wanted me, needed me, down to his very core, and that was the sexiest thing about him, about this. I could already feel my body beginning to give out around him, my skin prickling where he touched. He left a trail of tingles wherever he moved his hands across me like he was painting the canvas of my body with his touch.
He moved his tongue in circles around me before plunging back in, and that was all I needed to push me over the edge. I let out a cry muffled by the pillow, and before I knew it, I was clenching around his fingers, my body rocking back against him, his nails digging deep into the flesh of my lower back as he kept me steady, as though he wanted to leave marks on me, wanted to remind me of what we had done, of where he had been.
As I was racked from the pleasure of the orgasm, he pulled away from me and dug around in the bedside table to pull out a condom. I heard the zipper of his pants and the tear of the packet as he swiftly sheathed himself, and he grabbed my hips to pull me up a little. I felt his cock pressing against my still-sensitized pussy, and I pushed myself up on all fours and began to move back against him.
“Oh my god,” he breathed, running his hand along my spine as I moved back against him. I wanted to feel him inside me—no, I needed it. It ran deeper than a simple desire. I rocked my hips against him until he was all the way inside of me, buried to the hilt, and his fingers dug into my hips as he held me close and steady. We both gasped, the mutual pleasure too much to take – I loved him at this angle, loved how big he felt, loved how satisfying he was. And before I knew it, I was starting to move.
It wasn’t lovemaking, no way. This was fucking, pure and simple, the kind that came when the two people involved needed nothing but pleasure and had no way to get it except each other. I slipped my hand between my legs to match the pace of his thrusts, and with every motion, I inched closer, moving faster and harder. My brain seemed to have slipped out the back of my head, giving way to this endless, unstoppable, impossible sensation that took control of every part of me, my whole body a machine for translating this pleasure any way it could.
He moved into me hard and rough, wrapping my hair around his hand and tugging on me lightly so my head was tipped back. I could almost see him out of the corner of my eye, but I could certainly hear him, those growls of desire that seemed to swell up from somewhere deep down inside him. I loved hearing those sounds because it told me he had totally given himself over to the moment, to me, to us. I cried out, the sound cathartic, and a moment later, the wave crested and exploded, and I came.
“Fuck,” I groaned, my whole body trembling at once, and he pressed his entire body into mine and moved into me one, two, three more times. And then he found his own release, planting his mouth against my back and letting out a long, agonized sound like a dying animal. He held himself there for a long time, and I could feel his breath against my back, in and out, in and out, soothing, calming, reminding me that this man needed more than just my body.
He slowly slid out, disposed of the condom, and crashed down on the bed next to me, grinning in my direction. My legs trembled and finally gave out, and I lay down next to him. He looked into my eyes, so deeply, it was like he was cutting through layers of rock and sediment, years of crap I’d used to build up that barrier between me and the world at large. And that’s when he said it.
“I love you,” he murmured, and he brushed his fingers against my cheek. I closed my eyes, savoring the words, letting them wash over me. The only thing I’d ever wanted to hear from him.
“I love you too,” I replied, and together, we lay there in bed, the whole world changing around us, and just looked at each other.