His unflinching stormy gray gaze holds me frozen in place. “Katie, I didn’t plan this. But I’ve realized now that you’re here that I want to taste you on my tongue and hear your moans again. Just like that night, I want to fuck you so hard, so completely, you won’t know where I end and you begin.” My mouth drops open. This is what I imagined he was saying to me in my dreams last night and a few other times over the last two months.
Shit. No one has ever spoken to me like that before, and it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard. My whole body is pulsing with need. My panties are damp at the thought of all those delicious things he just outlined. I want everything he just said … and more. But I pull myself up on those thoughts. Just because I dreamed of him saying these things doesn’t mean I should make them a reality.
“Do you always get what you want?” I challenge before running my tongue over my suddenly dry lips.
“You fuckin’ better believe it. Will you come over here?” he growls, the throaty sound melting my defenses further.
Surprising him but also myself, I stand on shaky legs, take a step toward him, then stop. “This feels like a bad idea.”
“Aye, but you want this as badly as I do. I can see it in your eyes. We were too good together for just one night.”
He holds my gaze, and like he’s some kind of snake charmer, his softly spoken words draw me to him. I tentatively take the remaining three steps to close the distance between us. He leans back into the sofa, looking up at me, and for the first time, I notice the impressive bulge tenting his gray sweats. He’s right. I do want his body again, and I reach down to touch him.
But he grabs me by the wrist, restraining me in a viselike grip. “First, I want you to strip for me,” he demands in a gravelly tone that I haven’t heard before. It’s sexy, compelling, and forceful. I never thought I’d want to bend to a man’s will, but with Drew, I want to hand over complete control. Especially when I know what delicious things he can do with that control.
I bend to remove my red patent leather Jimmy Choo heels, and in the same voice, Drew tells me, “Leave those on.”
I look up, standing up straight again, then begin to undo the buttons on the front of my white silk blouse. His heated gaze tracks my progress.
“Good girl,” he encourages, and I feel my cheeks flush under his praise.
When the last button is undone, I slip it from my shoulders and let it flutter to the floor behind me. His eyes darken as he takes in my lacy white bra, then he mutters, “Beautiful.”
Never before have I been as glad to have a thing for pretty lingerie. My drawers at home are overflowing with sexy sets of expensive underwear in every color imaginable. Choosing a set to wear each day is as important to me as choosing the clothes to go on top. A small smile reaches my lips as I think of Drew’s reaction when he catches sight of the matching G-string still hidden under my skirt.
I reach around behind me to unhook, then unzip my simple black skirt, shimmying it down over my hips until it too falls to the floor. I take a step sideways out of it. Feeling cheeky, I turn and bend deeply, picking up my skirt and tossing it across to the other chair.
Drew groans loudly. “Fuuuck me.” Still bent over with my bare butt in his face, I peer over my shoulder, grinning. His mouth is hanging open, his eyes are wide, and his cock is out of his sweats and in his fist. Seeing him enjoying himself gives me an extra boost of confidence. I stand, then spin around on slightly wobbly legs to face him. He looks at me hungrily, his fist sliding slowly up and then down his shaft.
“Don’t stop. Pretty as your lacy underwear is, I want it all off,” he demands again.
Before today, I never would have thought I could be a submissive, yet here I am, doing everything this man demands of me and doing it willingly, eagerly. With a stretch of my arm, I reach behind me to unclip my bra and throw it somewhere behind me, then I slide the G-string down my legs.
When it’s at my feet, Drew holds out his hand. “Give me them.”
I slip the panties over my shoes and place them on his palm. His fingers close tightly over them, and he brings his fist to his nose, breathing in deeply. I’ve never seen a guy do that before. I didn’t even know that was a thing. It feels naughty in an erotic kind of way, making me feel totally desirable.
I take one step forward and drop to my knees before him, then place my hand over his and whisper, “Please may I?” He drops his hand, and I curl my fingers around the base of his thick, firm shaft. I’d be worried about the stretch if I didn’t already know that we fit together perfectly. His member is larger than any other guy I’ve been with. Not that the five other sexual partners from my past are much of a sample.
I lean forward, knowing that this position will make my nipples brush against his knees. I lick across the tip. His salty precum hits my tastebuds, and my core aches with desire. I want more, and I seal my lips around his crown, then look up at him. He groans low and deep.
Another couple of teasing swipes of my tongue, and he threads the fingers of both hands through my hair. His grip is tight as he firmly holds me to him. Emboldened, I take in more, stuffing my mouth with his cock, loving the feel of him hitting the back of my throat.
I slowly draw back. He pulses his hips forward, and I suck him in again, sheathing my teeth with my lips so he feels the pressure along his shaft. With my tongue flattened and pressing firmly to the underside of his length, I relax my throat muscles and take him in farther. My eyes water, and I tamp down on my gag reflex.
His breathing is coming in fast, short pants, and it drives me on to push him to the brink. I bob my head up and down on him a few more times until he tugs back hard on my hair.
“Fuck, Katie, that’s enough,” he growls.
I look up at him, wide-eyed, then back down at his tempting, impressive thick shaft, standing up proudly and smeared in my long-lasting Gucci rose lipstick. I smile.
He reaches out and rubs his thumb over my bottom lip. “You really like sucking cock, don’t you, baby?”
I nod vigorously, because I really do. Especially his.
He reaches out to help me stand before leaning forward to snag his wallet from the coffee table and retrieve a condom. He throws the foil square on the cushion beside him, then demands, “Come here.”
He pulls me down onto his lap, my legs straddling his thighs, his rock-hard member nestled between us, and I bend my head to capture his lips with mine.
