desperate to have him inside of me.
But not just yet.
I want to push him over the edge first.
“Fuck, Audrey,” he grunts, wrapping his hands in my hair, guiding me to take him deeper. His eyes don’t leave mine and this connection is the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced.
I blink at him from under my lashes, increasing the pressure of my mouth and wrapping a hand around the base of him to pump in rhythm with my lips and tongue. His head falls back with a ‘fuck, fuck, fuck’ and having this effect on him is satisfyingly erotic. He’s normally so reserved and controlled to the point of arrogance. But right now, he’s anything but. As his thighs shake and his eyes open and close and he gasps my name, well, the one feeling smug is me.
“I’m going to come,” he manages to grunt as some kind of polite warning, but I’m way past polite. So I double down, flattening my tongue along the underside of his cock and dragging it along the length of him, not letting up for a second.
Then I sit back, thoroughly satisfied with myself. Which lasts a brief moment because then it occurs to me that Warren is forty and I’m not sure what that means in terms of recovery time. I probably should have saved the blow job for a time when I wasn’t fixated on having his cock inside of me, pounding into me until the idea of walking sounds unpleasant.
“Why are you frowning?”
“I’m not,” I lie, a bit aghast at being caught.
“You are.” He pulls me to my feet and kisses me.
One kiss and I forget what I was frowning about because then he’s undoing my bra and unbuttoning my jeans. His hands slide over my ass as he helps me shimmy out of the denim and sweet Lord, he undoes me. I’m hot and wet and achy and I want him inside of me right this second. Orgasm denial is clearly not my kink.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” he says, pausing to nip at my lower lip. “Did you think about doing that all day, you filthy tease?”
“Please,” I manage to gasp because he’s playing with the waistband of my panties, sliding his fingertip just below the fabric in some kind of sadistic torture. “You’re the tease.”
“Am I?” He looks amused by this, a smirk tugging at his cheek.
My panties hit the floor.
“Yes,” I insist. “You are. Always frowning and pacing around focusing on your work and whatever.”
“And that gets you off?” he asks, a bit incredulously. Clearly he hasn’t seen himself.
“Mmm-hmm,” I hum because he’s slipped a finger inside of me and really this is no time for arguing when I’m getting what I want.
“You’re so wet.” He whispers the words against my ear and somehow that makes it all the filthier. “Did sucking my cock get you like this?” He backs me towards the bed, still whispering filth in my ear. “Did swallowing me down make you wet and needy for more of me?”
“Mmm-hmm,” I whimper this time because words are super overrated and hearing Warren Russo dirty-talk might be enough to make me spontaneously orgasm before he even gets his dick inside of me.
Then I’m on my back, spread out on his bed and staring at his ceiling as he climbs over me, his lips on my neck and his hand between my legs. I need this man more than I need my next breath. I wind my hands into his hair and pull his mouth to mine as my hips buck into his fingers, begging for more.
I feel the length of him against my thigh and I think my luck must be on an upswing because thank you, dick recovery god, he’s already hard again.
“Please, Warren, I’m dying for you.”
“I’m right here,” he replies and I can feel the smile on his lips as he presses them against mine. Fucking tease.
“I want you inside of me,” I manage to clarify around breathing, because his lips have moved to my nipple, his teeth dragging against the nub before his tongue circles and my focus is a mess. He’s got the most perfect scruff. The abrasion against my skin is heaven.
“Like this?” he asks, slipping two long fingers inside of me, pumping as he works my clit with his thumb.
“No.” I shake my head against the mattress, my sexual frustration building with his manipulations.
“No? So I should stop?” His fingers leave me and my hips rise, chasing them in dismay. He