Bootycall 2 - J. D. Hawkins Page 0,21
enough to stare deep into her eyes and chase away any doubts she might have, anything that might hold her back. I roll my hand from her neck to her shoulder, down to her breast, grabbing it roughly before I take her arm and trace it down to the hand where she’s clutching the keys. I take them from her, and without taking my eyes away from hers, slide them into the door lock and open it.
The door swings open under the pressure I’ve been holding her up against it with, and she gasps, afraid that she’s falling backwards, but I yank her back up against me with the hand I’ve wrapped around the small of her back. She slams into me once again, and this time I can’t help it, I attack her mouth with mine, tossing the keys into the hallway and kicking the door closed. It slams shut with a loud noise, sending a spike into Gemma’s already-jangling nerves.
I love that I can feel everything she’s feeling from the tremors in her body. I love that I can read her curves like a blind man reads braille. I rub my hands over her body, the silk dress doing nothing to hide all the fantastic promises her sleek shape is making.
She draws back, grabbing the lapels of my blazer as she does so and pulling me deeper into her apartment, deeper into the dancing lines of her body, into the shimmering light that plays across the dress as she steps backwards slowly. She licks her lips, breathing a hot fire. I let her pull me slowly toward the bed.
We tumble onto the sheets, me on top of her. She writhes beneath me as I run my hands down her body. I lower myself to the hem of her dress and stroke her legs, lifting the skirt up slowly. I plant small kisses up the exposed flesh like little bombs of hot, wet sensation. She purrs as I get closer, lifting the dress slowly, her breath hitching as my tongue licks and soft sucks move closer to the source of her hotness.
I press her dress up over her hips, exposing her navel, and continue licking and biting, savoring the taste of her soft skin, moving teasingly close to her dampening panties, up to her trembling stomach. I work my mouth up slowly over her breasts, which fall beautifully into their firm, round shape when I reveal them, causing my cock to stiffen and press against my trousers with an aching restraint.
She slides down, helping me pull the dress off her. Her body is pliable and liquid, melting already in the steamy pressure of her lust.
I pause for a moment. Somehow managing to stop the tidal wave that’s urging me to swim into the rolling mounds of Gemma’s tits, holding back from the electric force that’s compelling me to put my mouth on her juicy lips, her beautiful nipples, her sensual flesh.
My mind races with all the possibilities, a million contradicting urges fighting each other inside of me. I want to worship her, and I want her to submit. I want to see every perfect pore of her skin, and I want to close my eyes and navigate around her winding curves by feel alone. I want to give her the sweetest high she’s ever had, and I want to take every last drop of pleasure from her perfection that I possibly can.
For a few seconds, while she gazes up at me with beautiful innocence, mouth parted in anticipation so sharp it’s almost painful, the battle rages inside of me. Light and dark, cruel and kind.
Darkness wins. Darkness always wins.
I grasp at my belt, flipping the buckle and sliding it off with a dangerous whipping sound. Her bottom lip trembles when she sees the steel determination that’s flickered into my eyes, the clenched jaw of a man who’s going to do it his way.
I kneel back on the bed and pull her up to a sitting position in front of me. I move my hard gaze to her excited one while my hands grab hers and wrap them behind her back, tying them together with the belt.
“You’re mine now, Gemma. All fucking mine.”
I shove her back onto the bed, onto her tied hands, and move down towards her panties – the only thing she’s wearing now apart from her heels. I bite at her pussy through the soft cloth. She moans, digging her high heel into the bed. I run