minute my front door closes, I’m on her, kissing her hair, unbuttoning that silky blouse. I want her naked, to worship her. I want her in every corner of this apartment, again and again, until I’m annihilated.
We fall onto my sofa, a tangle of arms and legs. I kiss everything I can get to, her lips, her neck, the swell of her breasts.
“I could live on the feast of your body,” I say, pushing her skirt up to her waist to reveal those soft thighs and the “V” of her black panties. God, I’m wild for those.
I have to hold myself back from tearing off everything. I want her. I’m insatiable, driven mad for her. I know we have a conversation ahead about who I am, but I can’t do it now. Not yet. I need her. I’m a dying man, and she is my last wish.
She pulls at the buttons of my shirt, wrestling it over my shoulders. I toss it and make quick work of hers, sending it fluttering across the room.
“You are so damn beautiful,” I tell her. “I want to plaster my walls with life-size images of every inch of you.”
I’m careless with the panties and tear straight through the lace. I can’t even apologize, dragging her legs wide so I can dive into her, lapping with my tongue. This is where I’ve wanted to be. Pleasuring her, making her cry out. She can’t let me go if I’m here, loving her in this exquisite place we find together.
Her hips rock up to me, and I lift her ass to give me deeper access. My gaze roves up her body, bisected by the bunched-up skirt, her belly writhing, her bra barely containing those breasts.
I reach up and release one from the black lacy cup. The nipple responds to my touch, tight and budded beneath my thumb. She crosses one arm over her face, her lips parted.
I never want this moment to end.
I take it easy, controlling her, bringing her to that peak and holding her there. She grips the sofa cushion, crushing herself into my face.
My mouth keeps its steady, rocking pressure. She’s so wet, so eager.
“Jason,” she says. “Please. God.”
I can’t resist anything she asks, and dive in, circling the nub, licking end to end with long, luscious pressure.
She comes hard, jolting upwards, her cry almost a scream. “Jason, Jason, Jason.” Her muscles spasm every time she says my name.
I slow my movements, bringing her down. I almost shake inside. Fuck. I don’t want this to end. I can’t let her go. Fear sluices through me. When this is over, when she finds out, will she leave me right away?
I don’t realize I’ve pressed my cheek to her belly until she curves around me. “Hey, you okay?” Her fingers trail across my head. “We’re all right. It’s fine that you took me to that fancy place. I’ll try harder next time to fit in. I can’t expect you to give up your whole world for me.”
She has no idea. I already have. I don’t want anything else but her.
It’s time to tell her. Fess up.
I lift my head. Her expression is nothing like what I’ve seen on Nova before. Tender. Concerned. She cares.
But I know her. She’s fire and anger and strength. My words will cut through this gentleness she’s feeling.
“It’s not that,” I say.
“Good,” she interrupts. “Because it’s time you take me to your bed and fuck me properly.”
She shifts away from me and stands. “I think maybe you need a little inspiration.”
Her skirt slides back into place. She’s a goddess in a black bra. The confession dies on my tongue.
She turns away and looks at me over her shoulder. “Where’s your phone?”
I pull it out. “What do you want to do with it?”
“I want you to use it.”
I swallow. “What for?”
“Shut off your upload to the cloud.”
“I don’t use that.”
“Good.”
She bends over, and the sweet pink of her recently worked parts peek out from under the skirt. “Take a picture. You said you wanted to plaster your walls with me.”
Fuuuuuck. I lift my phone and take the shot.
She stands and reaches behind her to unhook the bra. “No faces.”
“Wouldn’t dare.”
She slowly slides it down her arms, still facing away. “Ready?”
“Born ready.” All other thoughts in my head are blown out.
She tosses the bra and lifts her arms in the air. She turns slightly, until one perfect breast, topped with a pert pink nipple comes into view. “Got it?”
I snap, like, five hundred shots.
This