American Honey

Without any warning, his mouth crushes mine. Hiking my skirt up just a touch further allows him to step in between my legs. He pulls me forward so that my ass nearly slides off the desk. Hooking my legs around his hips, I pull him closer to me. His rock-hard length pushes against his jeans and it’s impossible not to grind up against him.

Moving his mouth from mine, he rains kisses down my neck. His moans vibrate against my neck, making my nipples pull into tight peaks. “Tell me to stop, Elle.” His fingers dive into my hair as he angles my head to attack the other side of my neck. “Tell me to stop and I will.”

“No,” I mutter breathlessly. “I want this. Now.” Pushing myself against his hard body, I emphasize just how much I want him.

In one fell swoop, he’s got me locked in his arms. With my legs wrapped around his hips, he grips my ass and carries me over to the door. Balancing my weight against the door, he moves his hand from my ass to lock it. Completely lacking any grace whatsoever, my head bangs against the door, causing Rosie to ask, “Everything okay in there?”

As my feet slide to the floor, Owen presses a finger against my lips. “We’re just fine, Rosie. Thanks for checking, but you can head home now.” The calm control of Owen’s voice completely belies the raging hard-on outlined in his jeans. He’s anything but in control. We hear her snicker through the door as her footsteps slowly retreat.

Ridding him of his jacket, I toss it on the floor. His arms bulge under the strain of his tight T-shirt. His chest looks like it was carved from a slab of stone. Everything about Owen looks chiseled and defined. Running my hands up his shirt, across his six-pack abs, and across the light dusting of hair on his chest causes a hiss of pleasure to pass his lips.

In a movement so smooth, he pulls off his shirt in that sexy-as-hell one-hand-from-behind way that all guys do. This time, it’s my turn to attack his mouth. Reaching up on my toes, I kiss him with all the pent up frustration of the last few weeks, with all the built up lust I’ve tried to deny.

Fumbling fingers tug at his pants and he steadies them with his hand. Within seconds, I’ve got his jeans and boxer briefs pushed down to his hips. His cock is hard and hot in my hand. Tracing over each vein and ridge with my fingertip makes him groan even more. “Shit, Elle. Your hand feels so fucking good.”

“Well then,” I say, looking at him slyly, “you’re going to love this.” I smile up at him seductively as I lower myself to my knees.

Letting each inch of his cock slide past my lips feels like tasting more and more of heaven. He pulls my hair to the side, looking down at me with hooded and lust-filled eyes. “Fuck. That. Looks. Amazing.” His words are perfectly timed with his thrusts.

Holding the base of his cock in my hand, I let it slide out of my mouth almost, but not all the way. Around his engorged head, I mumble, “What’s amazing, Owen?”

“My dick. Your mouth,” his words fall out between shallow breaths. He only lets my lips pass over his cock a few more times before he lifts me from my knees and walks us over to the couch.

With painstaking slowness, he lets my body slide down his. Just as my feet hit the ground, his mouth fuses over mine in a searing kiss. He breaks our mouths apart as he moves his fingers to the buttons on my top. Without breaking eye contact, he unbuttons each one slowly. Every snap and pull on the fabric sends a jolt of electricity racing over my entire body, all settling in my aching, wet core. When the top of my breasts are exposed, he plants seductive kisses right along the lace of my bra. “Oh, God, Owen,” I mutter against his hair, my fingers knotting at his nape, holding him close to my skin. The lingering scent of his shampoo and after-shave heighten my desire, throwing my need into overdrive.

“Tell me what you want, Elle. You can have it. Just ask.” A wolfish and smug-ass grin plays on his beautiful face. The bastard wants me to beg.

Two can play at that game. Rather than answering him, I shove my lace-covered breasts up into his face. Simply nodding his head, he snickers, laughing at my non-verbal demands. “This,” he asks impishly, “is this what you want?” Through the cream lace of my bra, he pulls my hardened nipple deep into his mouth, forcing my hips to lurch forward and press against him.

A sexy seductive grin lazily spreads across his face, His fingers move from my waist, slide down past my hips, and push my skirt up, exposing my lace panties. Keeping his eyes glued to mine, he slowly drifts the pad of his thumb over the fabric-covered seam of my sex. Cocking his head to the side, he yet again responds to my non-verbal demand. “Oh, this” his voice arches coyly, “this is what you want. I see.” Adding a touch more pressure, Owen’s fingers make me forget this silly game I’m trying to play.

“Yes,” I hiss. “Yes, Owen. That’s what I want. You. Your hands. Your mouth.” I reach down and ghost my fingers over his hard cock, spreading the moisture at the tip around. Just as he did moments earlier, I lock my eyes on his as I demand, “Your cock.”

A low, possessive growl falls out of his mouth. “They’re yours,” is all he can manage before his lips crash into mine. The velvety, sweet slide of his tongue against mine makes it impossible not to imagine it sliding against other places. One arm loops around my waist and the other slides down under my butt as Owen effortlessly lifts and tosses me back on the couch.

Laying there with all of my clothes on, while Owen openly stares at me, makes my heart accelerate like nothing else ever has. He stands there, in all his naked glory and my eyes just don’t know where to focus. His face is gorgeously rugged. His chest is chiseled and defined, while his abs are rock fucking hard. His cock is thick and solid, and oh, so ready for action. “Like what you see,” his smug voice cuts through the silence of my dazed stare.

A prickly heat creeps across my face, settling on my cheeks. He sees it and smiles appreciatively at me. “It’s okay, Elle. I like what I see, too.” His voice goes from amused to gravelly in the span of that sentence as his eyes travel over my body. He groans, “Very much,” before stripping me of the rest of my clothes. “These are staying, though,” he whispers against my legs as he runs his tongue along the lacy tops of my stockings.

With his beautiful mouth only inches from my cleft, I can’t do anything other than simply nod at him. Using just the tip of his tongue, he traces slow, torturous circles around my inner thighs, his fingers lightly grazing my slick folds. Arching my hips into his face, he smiles at me and hooks my leg over his shoulder. His finger dips inside of me just as his tongue sweeps slowly over my clit. “Oh, God.” My voice sounds foreign even to me, a low, long groan of need mingled with satisfaction at finally feeling him in this way.

After a few licks, he moves my leg from his shoulder. “I need you open. I want to see everything,” he explains as he puts one of my legs along the low back of the couch. With my other foot propped on the edge of the coffee table, I’m wide open, exposed, and completely vulnerable. Owen kneels between my legs, stroking himself as he just stares at me.

“Owen, please,” I beg.

This time, instead of making me ask for what I want, he dives right in. His tongue probes deeply inside of me as his thumb alternates between slow and fast circles over the hardened nub of my clit. When his fingers and tongue reverse roles, I lose it. The wet slide of his hot tongue sweeping over my clit, his fingers fucking me, curling into my g-spot, all of it sends me over the edge. Shattering into a million pieces under him, I don’t even feel him lean over to pick up his jeans.

By the time I have enough sense to look up at him, it’s just in time to see him roll a condom over his about-to-explode cock. His movements are slow and steady, completely the opposite of what I would h

ave expected given the heated look on his face. Sliding his arm under my shoulders, he glides his body along mine, his cock nudging at my still-fluttering entrance.

One inch at a time, he slides into me, but never all the way. Even when I grind my hips up against him, he pulls away, leaving only the tip inside of me. Teasing, torturing, his pace remains slow and measured.

As he fills me more, his arm glides down my back until it rests right at the upper swell of my ass. Growing impatient with his slowness, I moan against his lips. “Please…” I whimper.

Angling my hips just right with his arm, he looks down at me, a beautiful promise of pure pleasure dances in his eyes. When he slams into me, filling me completely, it’s the perfect mixture of pleasure and pain. “Owen…” his name tumbles from my lips as my entire body vibrates beneath him.

Completely at his mercy, he pounds into me, releasing the last few weeks of pent up angst and frustration. Like a rag doll, he pulls my limp legs up against his chest, my heels resting on his shoulder. “Oh, fuck…Elle…oh, God…” his words match his rhythm. Changing the angle sends shivers across my entire body. My nipples pucker. A heated fullness settles low in my belly. Sparks of fire shoot through my sex. In mere seconds, I’m ready to explode again.