Then she presses my hand to her bared torso, just below her rib cage.
“Touch me,” she whispers.
I flatten my palm against her warm skin, feeling her nerves rack through her as I brush my hand upward, underneath her top. I watch her face, noticing the subtle changes as I gently move toward her breast. She’s looking down, watching me, mesmerized.
She feels like fire, like at any moment, this will start to burn.
My fingertips touch the underside of her breast and I pause there for a moment, driving us both crazy. Her lips fall open and I think she’s about to say my name with a plea, but then my hand covers her completely and her eyes flutter closed. I lean in to kiss her cheek, then the edge of her mouth. I cup her breast with my hand, and the weight of it stirs my blood. Heavy and full. The perfect fucking size in my hand. My cravings from before come back with full force and I finally connect our mouths, teasing her until she splits her lips open and lets me deepen the kiss.
I want to haul her up and off the bed, press her back against the wall, and rip her clothes off in one go. I’d sink into her in no time, deep and to the hilt, rocking my hips and making her cry out in agony. I almost want to hurt her, to share this burden of pain I’ve felt for so long. Shouldn’t she be forced to feel what it’s like to want someone forever? A mouth that’s been parched too long. Hands that have been empty and idle. Hips that want to thrust and pound and hurt and love.
But this is Maddie’s show and I don’t know when it will end, so I’ll play by her rules. I’ll lean back on the bed and let her feel like she’s the one in control. I let her hover over me, her sweet body sitting on top of mine, her thighs spread open.
I’m so fucking hard as she stares down at me, tracing a finger across my bare stomach and then lower, playing with the drawstring on my pants.
Put your fucking hands on me, I want to urge her, but she doesn’t need any prompting.
She’s curious, and it doesn’t take long for her to slip her hand under the waistband of my pants and glide it over my hard length. I hiss and suck in a breath as her hand cups me in a tight fist.
I’ve never had Maddie like this, and it’s unreal.
I’m tempted to squeeze my eyes shut and savor the moment, but I don’t want to miss a single second of her straddling my hips and pumping that soft hand up and down on me. I should warn her that it’s been a while since I’ve had sex, that I’ve never—not once—wanted someone like this and her hand feels so fucking good I could come so easily, but I like the torture of this moment, the prolonged pleasure of finally getting something I want.
I tell myself to be a good boy, to stay underneath her and let her set the pace, and I try. I make it another few seconds, another tight pump up and down, and then it’s like I’m breaking free of restraints as I groan and haul her up and off me, tossing her down onto the bed so I can hover over her now.
This is better.
My little Maddie helpless underneath me.
Nowhere to go. No hiding from the truth of what we both want.
I take her hands in mine and roughly tug them up to either side of her head. If she touches me, I’ll lose myself so quickly. This will end in an instant.
Be good, I urge her. Stay put.
Then I let go of her wrists and go back to that flimsy thing she calls a shirt. Her breasts are barely concealed behind the silky material, especially when she heaves in deep breaths. She’s more than nervous; she’s scared.
What does she think I’m going to do to her?
Make this hurt?
Only a little.
I pin her down to the bed using my hips, and then my hands take the hem of her shirt and slide it up higher and higher, not pausing as her breasts spill out of the bottom. Then, impatiently, I bunch the material on her chest, out of my way enough for now, and I let my head drop down. My mouth sucks and bites and kisses until