While he worked to remove her dress, his gaze fixed onto her chest for several seconds. For a moment, Retta thought he’d become overwhelmed by the absolute beauty of her modest chest. But when she took a look at them herself, she saw the flesh-colored nipple coverings she’d worn with the backless outfit.
“Oh, just,” she slowly peeled each pastie off and flung them somewhere to the left of her, “done.”
“There they are,” he said, briefly rubbing his thumbs over them.
When he dropped to his knees in front of her open legs, she thought he’d go straight to her pussy, but he started on the inside of her left knee and worked his way up with soft love bites and kisses. Each one sent her deeper into the embrace of her desire. Her capacity to breathe waned as he neared where she wanted him to be.
His warm breath caressed her and elicited a shiver that made her toes curl and her back arch.
“Look at you,” he rasped, moving his fingers along her slit before holding them up for her to bear witness to her own need.
The sound of him breathing her in was almost her undoing. “Please, Duncan.”
Lowering his head, he gave her a long lick that ended at her clit.
“Oh, God,” she said, her head flopping backward.
She felt him smile as he closed his mouth around her sensitive bud and swirled his tongue. As she edged closer to her release, she fisted the sheets and tried to prolong the moment. But seconds later, everything tightened and she was catapulted into an orgasm.
While she recovered, he reached into the drawer of his side table to retrieve a condom. She watched him as he deftly rolled the latex on. He positioned himself over her, bracketing her torso with his arms. As he placed his dick at her slick entrance, their eyes locked. She told herself to look away, but the focus and interest he was studying her face with made it impossible.
Her eyelids lowered as he slid ever so slowly into her. She clamped her lips together to avoid moaning his name. He withdrew his dick from her pussy only to drive into her once again just as slow but with more force. She whimpered as she felt him stretch and fill her. Pleasure permeated her body.
Every time he retreated and entered her, something in her lower belly tightened. Her clit had a pulse of its own, and her skin grew damp and heated.
Digging her short fingernails into his lower back, she whispered, “Faster.”
He gave her that crooked smile of his before he straightened and hooked one of her legs over his arm. This sent him sliding deeper inside of her.
“Yeah, like that,” she said as she grabbed her own breasts.
He barely gave her a chance to adjust to the new position before he started fucking her at an unrelenting speed.
“This good?” he asked, watching her with a fierce expression.
She didn’t answer right away, occupied with the jolts of pleasure.
“Huh?” he asked again as he leaned forward until their foreheads touched.
“So good. Don’t you dare stop.”
His continued caresses and movement inside her triggered sounds and moans that came from the depth of her body.
“That’s right, baby,” he said without ceasing his powerful thrusts. “Get loud.”
She could see the light. It was beckoning her to surrender. She needed a few more—
“I got you,” Duncan whispered, reaching between their bodies for her clit and kissing her chin. “Let go.”
And like her body had been waiting for his permission, an orgasm ripped through her that couldn’t help but be expressed in a scream. Her body seized, and she held on to Duncan’s firm torso as she let ecstasy run its course.
He was still fucking her when he scooped her up closer to his chest. She kissed his shoulder and held on tight until he came on loud grunts and a shout.
And for a long time, all that was heard was their heavy breathing.
There’d been a brief moment after Retta had fallen asleep where Duncan’s instinct to flee had surfaced. Don’t get him wrong, fucking Retta had been amazing. So much so, they’d done it two more times before finally settling down to sleep.
But this quiet moment where he held her long after their bodies had recovered from orgasms wasn’t what he was used to. It was too intimate, something reserved for people who made five-year plans with their partners. However, as he now lost feeling in his arm from being the big spoon, he could admit he didn’t want to spend the early hours of Sunday any other way.