I couldn’t resist it. I released him from my pumping hands, but instead of descending with my mouth, I shuffled down and slotted his erection in my cleavage. I squashed my tits around him, encompassing his hardness between my soft flesh. I fucked him with my tits. Rocking up and down, I squeezed my breasts together, trapping him. His downy balls collided with them as I flattened my body against him. The softness of his skin caressed my own. I reveled in the meeting of our flesh. The shivers of delight peaked in the apex of my thighs, the zenith of my sexual anatomy and right where my neglected clitoris buzzed expectantly but unfulfilled.
He shifted forward, leaning over me and I licked his belly. All those little hairs stood on end as I moistened them. I kissed the firm rows of abdominal muscles and the carved pectorals with their tiny nipples at each summit—a glorious, defined body. I undulated over him. He clenched the bed linen, clawing in continuing frustration, his eyes screwed tight. I’d more than snared him. I’d conquered my dangerous fox.
He pressed his lips together, fighting the need to cry out, and his cock jerked between my breasts. A gush of liquid heat spurted upward onto my chest, covering my breasts until it dripped down onto him. His erection diminished, flopped slightly, and I released it. I knelt back between his legs and his cum slid down in a rivulet of whiteness. I licked my hand—an unhurried dining out on him.
He watched through the narrow slits of his eyes while his chest rose and fell rapidly.
“Patience.” I ran my tongue around my smiling lips.
The speed of his movements surprised me. One minute, I was there between his legs, and the next, he had pitched me onto my back and pinned my wrists to each side of my head. He straddled my thighs and his hot breath mushroomed over my face.
He looked riled. Annoyed. Not what I had expected. I’d just given him a stupendous orgasm and he didn’t seem happy about it. I tensed, uncertain of what I’d unleashed.
“Stefan?” My voice wavered. The grip on my wrists grew painful. “Please, you’re hurting me.”
He let go instantly. “Sorry.” He leaned back, running his hands through his unruly mop. “Sorry. It’s just. I’ve let you down. I said I could control myself and within minutes, I’ve come all over you.”
“Over me. Wasn’t that the point? Over, not in.” I lifted myself up on my elbows, his sticky cum drying on my chest. I didn’t care about the mess.
“True. Except. I was going to fuck you.”
“I think my choice was somewhat better. Less risky. I’m not keen on this whole pregnancy thing. Not at twenty-one.”
He lowered his hands. I think he’d forgotten my age. “I’d hoped to make you come. Impress you.” He looked let down by my little game.
“I nearly did.” True, but I usually need some direct stimulation. My clitoris ached to be satisfied. “Look, I promise tomorrow I’ll be at the clinic and get myself sorted. No more condoms and worrying about this. It’s getting in the way, isn’t it?”
“I’m clean,” he said quickly. Almost too quickly. “I don’t… Like I said, you can trust me.” He stumbled uncharacteristically over his words.
I’d not thought about the other reason for condoms. I couldn’t tell whether his keenness to reassure me hid some unspoken history, or if it was simple embarrassment on his part. I shrugged it off. My own sexual drive kept me uninterested in the reasons why.
I guessed he understood. “Good. Great. Thanks. Now, Mausi, what shall I do with you?”
“Do with me?” I lay back down. “What have I done wrong?”
“You teased me. Forced me to come.”
“Forced you?” I recollected that he’d done that to me as recently as Sunday. Revenge felt somewhat sweet.
He skimmed his palms back up my arms. Taking my wrists again, he repositioned them next to my head, except this time his grip was looser, painless.
I made a pretense of writhing about. It excited him. His cock burst back into life. I wriggled my hips about under his strong thighs.
“Yes, forced me. I think a little punishment fuck is due.”
I went rigid. What the hell did that mean?
“Don’t worry,” he said quickly. “In my book, punishment doesn’t mean pain. It means compliance. No misbehaving. You’ll get what I give you and I take precedence this time, Mausi. If you do want to come, you’re going to be begging me.”
“Begging you,” I iterated. My stomach erupted with those ridiculous adrenaline-driven flutters.
“Yes.”
Oh, yes. Make me beg for it, Stefan.
He stretched out and covered me with his long body. From head to toe he lay on me. He dragged my arms above my head and wrapped my knuckles around the metal bed poles in the headboard.
“Hold these. You’re going to need them.” He winked at me.