Under his warm, appraising eyes, my breasts feel suddenly heavy and my nipples tighten inside my lacey bra.
“You are so fucking beautiful,” he groans likes he’s in pain before he starts kissing me hungrily again.
I’m vaguely aware that we’re moving again. We don’t stop until my back hits the back of something soft.
He pulls away, his warmth and weight leaving me. I start to protest only to stop at the sight of him rising above me. Mesmerized, I watch him grab the bottom of his shirt and rip it up and off. His torso stretches up, all the rippling muscles in chest tightening and then relaxing. I swear, he’s a living, breathing, work of art.
A work of art I’d like to explore with my tongue.
Tossing his shirt away, his eyes lock on mine and darken. I don’t know why but my lungs freeze, unable to take in air as I suffer a moment of panic. He just looks so intense, so full of purpose, and so fucking big from down here.
/> He sinks down to the floor, going to his knees, his dark gaze never leaving me. Grabbing my soaked panties, he yanks them off. I shiver and try to lock my knees together but he grabs them with his hands and effortlessly pries them apart.
Oh god, I’m completely exposed to him. His eyes finally break from mine, traveling slowly downwards, scorching over my body.
Suddenly self-consciousness overwhelms me. I want to cover myself, I don’t want him to see all of my flaws. Especially the stretch marks.
I reach down, covering my tummy and he growls in warning. “Don’t.”
I bite my lip and shake my head. He grabs my hands and I’m so weak, it’s pathetic. I can’t keep him from pinning my hands to my sides. The guy could probably hold me down with just his pinkies.
I clench my eyes shut, afraid to see what he’s thinking as he looks at me.
I used to have such an awesome, rocking body before I got pregnant. I used to love wearing skimpy clothing and showing off my tight tummy.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he says with such thick feeling I look down at him in surprise. But he’s not even looking up at my face, he’s looking at my body, at my belly specifically.
Eyes tracing the lines of my stretch marks.
Devouring me.
“Is it crazy that I want to see what you’d look like swelling with my baby?”
“Yes,” I gasp immediately. He can’t be serious, but just in case I let him know, “That is fucking crazy.”
His eyes slide up to my eyes and he just grins at me.
He’s joking, right? He’s has to be joking…
But I can’t really tell as his eyes slide back down my body, slipping between my thighs. Fingers locking around my knees, he bends down and his tongue swipes across my lower lips.
“Fucking hell,” I squeak. I can’t believe he just licked me.
“Mmm, you taste so fucking good,” he rumbles and then I’m coming up off the bed as his tongue swipes me again, bottom to top.
“Oh fuck, what are you doing?” I ask, coming up on my elbows to stare down at him.
“Getting you ready,” he breathes against me and I shiver, my legs trembling as his hot breath washes over me.
“I am ready,” I assure him. I’ve been ready since yesterday morning.
One of his hand pushes up my thigh and then his thick digit is pushing through my folds, penetrating me.
“No,” he grunts as he pulls his finger out and then thrusts it back in, torturing me. “You’re so fucking tight, I’ll hurt you.”
I want to argue with him but I can’t.
I’m still wet from my orgasm but incredibly tight. I can feel the strain just from that one finger. He probably would hurt me if he tried to fill me with his monster sized cock right now. I guess this is one of the downfalls of not having sex in years.