“I told you, I haven’t done it before,” she whispered, stroking her fingers along the throbbing, heavily veined shaft.
From the wide, silken knob to the pulsing crest, then to the tightly drawn sac beneath. Every inch of him was so hard, heated and insistent for her touch.
She couldn’t encircle the heavy width with the fingers of one hand, so she contented herself with stroking him from base to tip, feeling the flesh clench and pound beneath her touch as she felt her entire body beginning to burn for his possession of her, for her possession of him.
She lifted her head and laid her lips against his chest, her tongue peeking out to taste. And she craved so much more.
Pulling back, her hands flattening against his chest as she pushed at him.
“I want to touch you.” That wasn’t her voice, so low and echoing with a pleasure that bordered pain.
“Gypsy, baby,” he groaned, but he moved.
Rising from the bed, he quickly discarded his pants and his socks before completely surprising her. Kneeling on the mattress with one knee, Rule wrapped his arms around her and lifted her to him, lowering the zipper of her dress as he stared intently into her eyes.
What had happened to her touching him? To him lying back for her? And why wasn’t she protesting?
He removed her dress slowly, satisfaction filling his expression as he pulled it from her, then tossed it carelessly over a nearby chair. Clad now in nothing but French-cut white lace panties and the black stockings with the iridescent emerald green thread sparkling within them, Gypsy felt the need burning inside her heating further.
His fingers hooked in the band of her panties, and a second later they were falling forgotten to the floor as Rule stared down at her, his face flushing, becoming heavy with erotic need as he knelt beside her.
Once again, the engorged length of his c**k drew her touch, her hunger. There were things she had imagined doing to him, had never believed she would have the chance she now had. She didn’t want to watch it slip past her and somehow lose the chance to ever do it again.
“I need to touch you,” she whispered, rising until she was kneeling on the bed in front of him, her hand stroking down his chest. “Just for a little bit.”
He caught her hair in the fingers of one broad hand, a tight, brooding grimace pulling at his lips as she moved to taste him.
Her tongue lapped at the hard muscle of his chest, her teeth scraping over it as she felt his body tense further. He moved one hand between them to grip the base of the heavy shaft tightly as the thick crest pulsed in demand.
Gypsy let her hand follow his, stroking down past his abs to the broad head of his cock. She gripped the thick flesh once again and stroked it, learning each pulse and throb, each heavy vein that pounded beneath the silken, tightly stretched shaft.
Her lips moved lower, following the path her fingers had taken to the heavily engorged crest as it rose beseechingly to her lips.
A small drop of pr**cum beaded at the slit, tempting her to taste him. When her tongue swiped over the droplet of moisture Rule groaned as though he were being tortured rather than simply tasted.
His entire attention was focused on her.
The lean hard contours of his body were tight with pleasure as Gypsy parted her lips, her tongue reaching out once more to lick over the knob, before curling beneath the flared edge as her lips descended over it.
His teeth snapped together, pleasure rocking his body with jarring force as Gypsy sucked the head of his c**k into the snug heat of her mouth.
Her tongue lashed at the overly sensitive crest, tucked beneath it and rubbed heatedly at the flared edge. With one hand she stroked down the hard column of flesh, then back up, cupping and stroking his tightened scrotum with the other.
A muttered growl escaped his lips. Pleasure arced from his balls to the head of his dick. Her hot little mouth sucked at him, drawing him deep before pulling back, licking and caressing the sensitive head before suckling it erotically once again.
It was torture. It was the greatest pleasure he’d ever known.
He couldn’t help spearing his fingers into the silken weight of her hair. Bunching the strands in his hands, he held her head in place, staring down at her as he f**ked her mouth with slow, shallow strokes. Watched her lips redden and swell, her eyes glaze with arousal as the scent of her need washed over his senses.
“So sweet and hot,” he groaned, the sight of her expression suffused with pleasure enough to send a furious pulse of sensation racing through his testicles.
She was exquisite.
Tightening her mouth on him, she sucked at the throbbing c**k head harder, creating a damp, wet haven for the shuttling crest as he moved against her. He wouldn’t last much longer and he knew it. He couldn’t last much longer. He’d waited far too long to have her, teased himself with the thought of taking her for far too many nights.
Before she could tempt him further, though, he moved back. He pulled himself from the liquid heat of her mouth as her eyes flew open, surprise and need gleaming in the dark green depths.
“Lie down for me, my wild little Gypsy,” he growled, lowering himself and forcing her to recline back on the bed.