Her hands clawed my back, and she rocked against me slightly, giving herself some friction against my length, letting out a quiet moan like my dick was a goddamn vibrator. She looked into my eyes as she breathed hard, like I was already inside her, making love to her on my sheets.
This no-sex thing wasn’t going to last long.
I lowered my lips to her mouth and kissed her, feeling my veins become electrified with the chemistry that was so potent, it was like a combustible reaction. I gave her my tongue, and hers was ready to take it, our mouths moving together in perfect unison like we weren’t brand-new lovers, learning about each other for the first time. It was like we’d done this before, hundreds of times, but the heat was still there.
She squeezed my waist with her thighs, her ankles locked together against my ass, pulling me into her with a gentle motion, getting my dick to grind against her clit with the perfect pressure to make her wetter and wetter.
Her hands would claw at my back, sometimes dig into my hair, and sometimes feel the muscles of my arms, touching me everywhere, like she wanted to explore every muscle, every vein, every strand of hair.
Now her panties were completely soaked, unwearable, the moisture seeping through my boxers until the skin of my dick was damp. When her kiss halted and she just held on to me, just rocked with me, I knew she was about to fly off the cliff without my even being inside her.
Her luminous eyes were on me, her lips were parted with her deep breathing, and when the intensity hit her, her nails dug deep, her thighs squeezed, and she bucked against me as she came, filling my bedroom with her gorgeous moans, her gentle cries of pleasure, her pants, her heaves.
I just got to watch.
Oh man, did I watch.
It was so hot I almost came in my boxers like a fucking teenager.
When it passed, her nails released my sliced skin, and her thighs relaxed against my waist. She kissed me again, this time gentle and soft, like she was ready to start the slow build all over again.
When I woke up the next morning—or should I say afternoon—she was wrapped around me.
I lay on my back, one arm propped under my head, and she was tucked into my side, one arm over my waist, one leg tucked between my knees, her warm tits pressed against me. I blinked a couple times as I stared down at her, her makeup smeared, her hair messy, the sunshine coming through the window and highlighting her beautiful face.
So last night was real…I didn’t dream the whole thing.
The second I looked at her, my dick came to life, hardening at the sight of her tucked under the sheets and all over me. She came a couple times last night and offered to get me off, but that wasn’t what the moment was about, so I denied her offer. Did I want her to suck my dick with those full lips covered in her beautiful pink lipstick? Absolutely. It just wasn’t the right time. Yes, I wanted to fuck her brains out, but we would get there. I hadn’t even taken her on a date yet.
She eventually woke up, and when her eyes focused on me, she gave a smile, her eyes lighting up in a look of pure and unbridled joy. She squeezed me a little tighter and pressed a kiss to my chest before she closed her eyes again.
“Sleep okay?”
“More than okay…” She pushed herself up on her arms, her hair falling on me, and she leaned down and kissed me the way she did last night, with heat and tongue. Then she leaned down and kissed my chest, the skin over my heart, before she crawled out of bed, still in the panties she wore last night. “I have to pee.” She walked to one of my drawers, where she knew I kept my underwear. “Do you mind?”
“Go ahead, baby.”
She opened it, took a pair of boxers, and then headed into the bathroom, her tits shaking as she moved.
I watched her go before I headed into the kitchen and made a pot of coffee. When I looked at the clock, I realized it was almost noon. Getting up early tomorrow for work was going to be a bitch. That was why I only scheduled surgeries in the middle of the week, when I was on a steady sleep cycle so I wouldn’t be thrown off by my late nights on the weekends.
I grabbed two mugs of coffee then carried them back to the bedroom.
Sicily was getting dressed, wearing my boxers underneath her dress because her wet panties were an infection waiting to happen. She sat at the edge of the bed and slipped on her heels.