Another thrust of two fingers into my clenching channel, another single swipe of fingertips against my aching bundle of nerves. "Duncan, dammit," I hissed. "Please."
"Please, what, Rune?"
I didn't know what I was asking for—my need to have his cock in my hands warred against my need to be touched. I wanted both in equal measure.
He answered for me. "If I let you touch me, this'll be over before it starts. And I need to taste your pussy." He reared back to stare into my eyes as he slid his fingers out of me and put them into his mouth; his eyes shuttered, and he groaned with unfeigned, delighted arousal. "Fuck."
"Duncan!” I gasped.
I found myself airborne, squealing in shock as gravity evaporated. Duncan had me in his arms, one around my shoulders, the other under my knees, and he was carrying me across the tiny room, mouth fusing to mine. I tasted my essence on his lips, and…I liked it.
"Is…is that how I taste?" I whispered against his mouth.
He stood at the foot of the bed with me in his arms, liquid brown eyes searching me. "Yes. Never tasted yourself?"
“No," I answered.
He lay me on the bed with exquisite gentleness, his big, hard body over mine radiating heat and demanding my hands. I feathered my fingers through the soft, cool silk of his hair and down the column of his neck, raking fingernails over his back, eliciting a shudder from him. One of his hands was fisted in the mattress by my ear, the other toyed with my breast, tweaked my nipple, carved down my waist to cup my hip, and then his fingers were inside me, thrusting deep and gathering my essence.
Withdrawing.
"Watch," he commanded.
My eyes flickered open in time to see him slip those fingers into his mouth, and my pussy spasmed at the way he licked them clean with aroused relish.
He dipped them inside me again, curling deep to press against my inner walls, causing me to jerk with a sudden blast of orgasmic heat; withdrawing slowly, he circled my clit—twice this time. My thighs squeezed together, and my knees did too, clenching around his hand.
"Open your legs for me, Rune," Duncan ordered.
Whimpering with arousal, I gradually relaxed, letting my knees sag away from each other, and then rolling my thighs apart.
"More." He cupped my pussy with his hand, covering it, palm grinding against my turgid clit. "Open up for me, Smokeshow."
"Why do you call me that?"
"Because it's what you are. A fucking smokeshow." He ground the heel of his palm against my clit. "Open up for me. All the way."
"Duncan…" I whispered. "I need to touch you."
"Not yet," he muttered. "Not till you come."
"Then make me come, dammit," I hissed. "I need you."
He laughed at this, a low rumbling of amusement. "Not in a hurry, babe. Gonna take my sweet time."
He lowered his shaggy head and kissed my lips, and then my breastbone, and then his teeth were sawing gently around my nipple, and his nimble tongue was dancing over the flesh where his teeth left me aching, and I could only gasp and whimper, press my hips up to beg for his touch.
While he was licking, biting, and suckling my tits, his palm was grinding rough, hard circles against my clit, and my ass muscles were forced to clench hard, pushing me into his bruising touch. Heat rose in my belly, boiled behind my clit, pressure pulling taut the wires connecting my nipples to my clit. The more he licked and lapped and laved and nibbled and teased my nipples, the harder my clit became and the more his rough, grinding touch sent thrills of need rampaging through me.
Ache built in my nerves, need burgeoned in my sex. Pressure swelled. Heat became incandescent, white-hot. I shuddered all over, clutching helplessly at his shoulders, scratching at his back, knotting fingers in his thick, shaggy hair.
"Duncan!" I gasped, as orgasm threatened. "Oh god."
"I can't wait," he murmured, more to himself than to me. "I need to taste you."
His weight was gone, then, and he was kneeling on the floor at the foot of the bed, and I was left shaking and achy and confused as he merely knelt there and stared at me, hot brown gaze raking my naked body.
"Duncan?"
