Hot Pickle - J.J. Knight Page 0,50
and heat coming off of him overwhelming.
His fingers tangle in my hair, wrapping around his fist and pulling my head down. “I don’t think I can wait any longer for you.”
I nod. I feel the same. The gentleness he shows during our sessions is gone. We’re back to the fierceness, the heat, and pent-up need.
He lifts me by the thighs to straddle his body. His hands slide beneath my skirt, grinding me against him. He’s rock-hard, and I can picture every inch of him. I want to see it again. Feel it. Do more. Everything.
His mouth has complete control of mine, his tongue exploring me. He tastes of mint gum and smells like aftershave.
He’s greedy, his mouth unrelenting. His hands rove up my back. He finds the zipper to my dress and pulls it down.
“I’ve only seen you once,” he says. “I need to see you again.”
I lock my feet around his waist as he pulls one spaghetti strap over my arm, then the other. His mouth moves to my neck, then collarbone as he leaves a trail of hot kisses along my skin.
He peels the dress away from my breasts, and I arch to him as his mouth claims a nipple.
He walks us to the side of the room where a pile of cushions decorates one corner. He lays me down on them and drags the dress off my body.
“You’re more beautiful than I remember,” he says, and tosses the dress across the room. “And I am going to feast on it.”
His hands cup my breasts as his mouth captures one, then the other. He continues exploring, feathering kisses along the side of my waist, across my belly button, and dipping his tongue inside.
I arch my hips to him as his fingers grasp the edge of my lace panties and peel them down.
His mouth follows their descent, skipping along my hipbone, and down my thigh, to the inside of my knee.
When the panties are lying next to my dress, he begins to work his way back up.
I clutch one of the pillows, feeling the wetness between my thighs.
His mouth finds its way to that heat, and his fingers spread me wide.
When his tongue slides inside, I arch to him again, letting out a long groan of need.
One of his hands goes beneath me, lifting my body to his mouth.
He plunges there, working me, a thumb quickly circling my nub.
I can barely catch my breath, it’s so fast, so hard, so intense.
His tongue laps at me, matching the rhythmic movements of my body, feeding them, pushing them higher.
He squeezes me, sliding his tongue more deeply inside. When his mouth sucks my nub, the lightning that has been sparking through my body focuses its energy where he works me.
The pulse of the orgasm begins, slowly, heavy, then suddenly bursts out.
I shriek, my entire body a crashing wave.
He holds me in place, not letting me go, drawing the orgasm out until I feel like I might collapse.
At last, he slows it down, and I sink into the cushions.
He spreads wet kisses along my thighs to my knee and down my shin. He nips at my calf, making me laugh.
“That tickles,” I say.
“You’re still with us?”
“I might’ve died. But I am resurrected.”
He shifts forward over my body, propping his head over me. He’s still fully dressed.
“I like this change,” he says. “You naked. Me fully clothed.”
I reach up and rub my hand along the back of his hair. “I do, too.”
He kisses my neck and works his way back down to a breast. “I will never get tired of the view.”
“You always get naked behind the screen,” I say. “Maybe I’d like to undress you myself for once.
“Feel free.”
He kneels on the floor next to the pile of pillows. I sit in front of him and grasp the bottom of his shirt to pull it over that incredibly developed chest.
I’ve touched him a thousand ways, with solutions, tanning creams, and loofahs.
But now I can touch him how I want, with a caress, followed with the soft press of my lips on all the places I’ve admired for weeks.
I reach for his belt, sliding the leather through the loops, revealing the button to his fly.
He stands up, and I kneel, lowering the zipper, pulling the waistband away and pushing the jeans down.
His boxers are black and silky, and there is no missing the erection filling out the front.
I’ve touched it before, shifting it aside while tanning, and once, pressing it between my breasts.
But I