they popped free, exposing my purple-lace bra. He slid my shirt over my shoulders, and it dropped to the floor.
He gently tugged my hair, tipping my head back further so that he could kiss his way from one collarbone to the other, so that he could access the hollow of my neck, nibbling on my ear as my breathing turned rapid.
And then he stepped away, turning the water off. His gaze raked over my body, as if memorizing my curves, memorizing the way I looked standing in this posh bathroom at the top of a sky scraper, half-naked, breathing hard, totally wet and ready for him.
He didn’t break eye contact as he reached over, unzipping my pants, pushing them down over my ass so that they pooled at my feet. Now I was bare, yet he was still dressed.
He led me to the bath, and I obliged, stepping over the lip of the tub and into the steaming water.
I sat on the edge, my legs draped into the water. He stared, but I didn’t move, and then his lips curled. “You’re supposed to get in.”
“So are you,” I said. His grin widened, and his hands moved to the buttons of his shirt, until it was discarded on the floor near my clothes. He kicked off his socks and shoes, and then shoved his pants and boxers down in one push, his hard cock breaking free.
He slipped into the tub, pulling me down into the water. It was large enough for us to sit side by side, leaning back against the gentle slope of the tub, but he didn’t want it that way. Instead, he pulled me onto his lap, my back resting against his chest, so that I was sitting on his cock, but not letting it slip inside me.
No, it was sweet torture, to feel the hard length of it, but not have it where I wanted it. “Lay back against me,” he commanded, puling me against him.
He slipped one hand over my thighs, nudging my legs apart, so that my ankles hooked over the outside of his. So that he would have access, his hands wet and slick as they found their way to my core. I laid against him, languid, loving the feeling of the hard planes of his body against mine, as the warm water lapped against my stomach. Loving the way his breath was hot against my ear, the feeling of his lips against the side of my neck.
His finger swirled around my clit, sending heat pooling in my belly. I swiveled my hips, pressing further into his dick, and he groaned. “You’re teasing me,” he said, his finger moving down, slipping inside me.
“What do you call what you’re doing?” I asked, groaning as his finger plunged was joined by another, stretching me out. He used his feet to push my ankles wider, to gain better access. With his free hand, he kneaded my breast.
“Feeling you,” he said, his fingers plunging in and out, “In the place I’m going to taste you later,” he added, biting softly at my shoulder.
I groaned wiggling my ass harder against his lap.
“You drive me crazy,” he said. “I wanted to kill that guy just for the way he looked at you.”
The jealousy threaded through his voice somehow made me want him more. It was like he wanted to possess me, own me in a way that meant no other man could ever have me.
“Tell me you’re mine,” he said, his voice low, gravelly. Seductive in a way I didn’t know I wanted.
“I’m yours,” I said, grinding harder against his cock. “Only yours.”
My pulse roaring with desperation as his fingers pushed inside me, and he added a third, stretching me further. I needed him to fuck me right there in the tub, slam into me hard and fast, but he was taking his time.
“Do you like that?” he asked, using his legs to push my ankles as far apart as they’d go, so that thy touched each side of the enormous tub. He leaned forward, watching as his fingers forced their way inside me.
“Mmmm,” was all I could manage, more a moan than an answer.
“God you’re tight,” he said, his fingers growing rough against me. And then they slipped out of me, and, he grabbed my hips, lifting me off of him, placing me at the edge of the tub. Water dripped in rivulets down my hair, across my breasts and legs. The edge of the tub was cool and