“No one’s interrupting us today,” he says, sliding my shirt up until my breasts are exposed and quickly covering one of them with his mouth as he reaches around to unhook my bra.
With an extraordinary display of willpower, I push his head up, separating us. “Are you sure you’re okay with this? I was with your friend.”
He lowers his body down against mine, letting the ridge of his erection press into my leg. “Do I feel okay with this?”
I grin, my entire body screaming at me to shut up and let this man have his way with me, but my brain insists on voicing one more concern. “This is only going to happen once,” I say, looking into his dark eyes. “That’s my policy with men.”
His brows furrow as his gaze shifts between my eyes and my lips. “Sure,” he says, filling that one word with both agreement and a heavy dose of skepticism.
I grip the side of his face just as he starts to descend again. “I mean it. One time only.”
“Becca, when I’m done with you, you’re going to be begging for more.”
If he keeps up the dirty talk, he might be right. I tug his body upward, curling to kiss him as I position the hard bulge in his jeans between my legs. One of my legs wraps around him, and my pussy grinds against him, scratching my itch, stimulating the needy ache that seems to have permeated every cell of my body.
He cups my breast with one hand while fingers from his other push into my mouth even as we kiss. I flick my tongue over his digits and then suck on them as he lets the weight of his hips press me into the bed.
“I can’t wait to see my cock in your pretty little mouth.”
I drag my teeth over his fingers and he moans, triggering the orgasm that’s been building in me ever since I breathed in the scent of Shane’s clothing downstairs.
Khalil pinches my nipple as I start to come, and I cry out. I don’t anticipate saying his name, but that’s what comes out. He rubs his erection into me and my pussy throbs, happy for now, but wanting so much more.
“Wow, this is going to be easy,” Khalil says when the shallow climax subsides and I return to myself. “I told you it’d be good.”
I press a hand into his shoulder and shift my weight, and he lets me flip him onto his back, where I immediately straddle his hips. “Don’t get too cocky,” I tease. “I did most of the work myself, before you even showed up.”
He laughs and arches a brow. “I know. I saw you.”
I pummel his chest playfully in mock irritation. “You creeper. Since you watched me, now I get to watch you.”
18
Better than I imagined
I was going to undo Khalil’s pants, but instead, I tell him to do it, while I slide a few inches down his legs and settle in for a front row view of the performance.
“Show me how you like to do it,” I say, gesturing with a nod.
He stares at me for a long moment before his big hands start to undo the buckle on his belt. Just the sight of him handling the leather has my mouth watering, and when he pulls down his zipper, I have to stop myself from squirming.
Dark briefs are beneath, a large mound protruding. His cocky grin returns as he watches me hanging on his every move. He cups the mound, adjusting it. When he pushes his pants down on his hips, I move out of the way so he can discard them.
I sit beside him, taking in the long, toned muscles of his legs. Fine, dark, curled hair covers his limbs and I long to touch it, but I resist.
When he peels off his snug briefs, the reveal is glorious, his long, thick cock springing out and bobbing before coming to rest on his stomach, pointing toward his chest.
After his underwear is off, he lies there looking at me, hands folded behind his head, confident in the fact that I’m liking what I see.
“Show me,” I urge him.
His eyes on me, he reaches for his cock and wraps his fist around it. He gives it one long, slow tug, stretching it to an intimidating length before he begins to stroke it, his fist tight around his skin, squeezing.
I watch, riveted, only looking away to briefly meet his gaze, which is fixed on me as he gives himself pleasure. With his other hand, he cups his balls, and again I have to stop myself from touching.
“Is that all you’re gonna do? Watch?” he asks.
“You like me watching.”
He grins and looks toward the ceiling as he continues to tug on his cock.
Unable to hold out any longer, I smooth a hand over his legs, feeling the softness of the hair and the hard muscle beneath. My fingers slide over his tight calf muscles, down to his socked feet, and slowly back up to his thighs, a part of a man that has always held a special appeal for me, for some unknown reason.