Billion Dollar Stranger - Stephanie Brother Page 0,8
side of my throat and across my collar bone. He teases me with his touch, following the line of my pink lacy bra, his eyes never leaving mine, holding me captive while he works to make my body shake. His fingers slip under the lace until they find the hard point of my nipple. He squeezes it, gently at first and then harder until I cry out.
“Look at you,” he whispers, leaning down to flick my now-bare nipple with the hot point of his tongue. “So white, so soft…so sweet.” I can feel the wetness building between my legs, and I squirm as his every touch makes me ready for what is to come. “And your nipple, so small and pink and hard.” He takes it between his teeth and bites down viciously enough for me to cry out. His mouth leaves my breast wet, moving to kiss me again, this time harder and more demanding, his tongue mimicking the action I imagined his cock would make later. I moan involuntarily and feel him smile against my mouth as if he had been seeking my reactions as evidence of his success. His hand squeezes my breast, the other pushing me to the wall so he can press his rock-hard erection against my hip.
“You’re like a doll,” he says against my cheek. “Like a porcelain doll. So pristine.” His hands shift now, moving down the bare skin of my sides until they clasp at my waist. “Your body’s perfect,” he murmurs into my mouth, and the sentiment makes me want to touch him. I only manage to run my hands down his back and around until they are under his suit jacket before he grabs my elbows and lowers my arms to my sides again. “Faultlessly perfect…it makes me want to mark you with my teeth, to fuck you hard enough to make you raw.”
He pulls back again to look into my eyes and maneuvers me until I’m resting against the console table. “I want to make you come so hard you won’t even know where you are. Sit down,” he says, already pushing me back and drawing my feet up to rest on the edge.
As I look down at his hands on my knees, I can see myself trembling, but it’s as though I’m looking down at someone else’s body. I’m outside myself; the lust and the desperate need to be filled, both physically and emotionally, separating my mind from my physical self. He gently parts my legs, moving my black skirt up my thighs until there is nothing between his eyes and my pussy. I try to draw my legs together, embarrassed to be so exposed, but he holds me firmly and pushes them wider until I feel myself open in front of him, the most intimate part of my body on display for this stranger.
“So pink,” he says, licking over his bottom lip. I can’t stay still as he moves his hand, using one finger to stroke down over my clit to the outside of my opening, drawing the wetness to lubricate his journey. The slowness of his touch is exquisite torture, like the tickle of a feather, and I rest my hands behind me for stability. His finger continues to move slowly, deliberately, until I can feel more wetness slipping out. Even though I’m scared, all I want is for him to penetrate me and block everything else out with sensation.
Each touch changes me into a different person.
As if he can read my mind, he pushes inside me; first one finger, then two, then three, pressing the sensitive spot inside me until I clench my muscles around him. “Fuck,” I gasp, spreading my knees even further, opening myself totally. He presses his thumb against my swollen clit, delicate pressure that brings me closer to the orgasm I want so desperately. And then he pulls his hand away, leaving me panting.
When I open my eyes, I watch him lick his fingers, which are glistening wet. “You taste as sweet as I imagined. Now get up.” I move to stand, my legs weak with desire, and reach to unbuckle his belt. He grabs my hands and pulls them away. “Take off your clothes,” he says, and steps back to watch me, slipping off his jacket and tie, then unbuttoning his shirt. I reach behind me to unhook my bra and take my time pushing the straps down over my arm, relishing the dark look in his eyes as he