to be at that ball in two hours, and I intend to spend the next one-hundred-and-five minutes giving you many, many orgasms. After that, you’ll have exactly fifteen minutes to wipe my cum off your thighs and get into your dress.”
“Oh, my God,” she groaned, her voice thick with hunger.
Candace always got off on his more blunt expressions of need for her, growing even more inflamed when he whispered in her ear the kinds of words a polite man usually didn’t say to a nice woman. She loved it, always growing wetter, wilder, when he talked about how much he loved eating her pussy and the fantasies he had about her gorgeous ass. They’d even gotten into a conversation about the most forbidden word in the female lexicon, and he knew she now looked at it in a whole new way, knowing if he ever used that word, it would be because he was out of his mind with need for her. What was once offensive had become incredibly erotic to her.
“Any more arguments?” he growled as he nipped her earlobe, dropping a hand to her thigh.
She gasped. “No arguments.”
“Good. Now take off your clothes, Candace,” he ordered as he nibbled her collarbone.
“Why don’t you make me,” she said, her tone sultry, provocative. She was daring him, egging him on, testing the boundaries.
He stared at her, narrowing his eyes, giving her a moment’s warning. Then he reached for the front of her blouse, grabbed two handfuls and yanked.
Buttons flew. She gasped. Two gorgeous, perfect, pink-tipped breasts spilled out.
As he’d suspected, no bra.
All was right with the world.
“I’ll buy you a new one,” he said as he pushed her back onto the bed, bending for a taste of one succulent nipple.
“To hell with the blouse.” She cooed as he sucked one breast while tweaking and toying with the other. They were made for pleasure, big and sensitive, and as he played with them, he wondered if every other man in the world was as hopelessly addicted to sucking the breasts of the woman he loved.
Twining her hands in his hair, she rose toward his mouth, holding him where she wanted him, whimpering with pleasure as he suckled her. Her hips were rising in tiny thrusts, as if every pull of his mouth sent sparks of heat surging to her groin.
After he’d paid lavish attention to those beauties, he kissed his way down her belly to the seam of her pants. Unbuttoning them, he pulled them off her, taking her shoes and panties, too, until she was naked, spread out like a feast for the devouring.
He stood up beside the bed, slowly stripping off his shirt, his hands shaking with need. He never took his eyes off her. Candace lay there, writhing, stretching, running her hand over her own body, from her breasts down to that perfect little tuft of curls between her thighs.
“Touch yourself,” he ordered her as he unfastened his pants.
She did, slipping a long, slender finger deeper into her crevice to stroke the tiny nub of flesh that perched at the top.
“Like this?”
“Oh, yeah. I definitely like that.”
She laughed softly. “I do, too,” she admitted, her voice filled with feminine power. She knew what she did to him, knew he went a little crazy every time they made love.
He shoved the rest of his clothes off, smiling with male satisfaction as she stared avidly at his erect cock. She licked her lips, whimpering, her body twisting even more restlessly as her need overtook her.
He didn’t reach for her yet. Reaching for his cock, he stroked it, knowing he could bring himself to climax by just standing here watching her.
But he wouldn’t. Because that wouldn’t even come close to the sensation of coming inside her body.
“How do you want me, Oliver? What’s your fantasy?”
His mouth went dry as he pictured all the ways he’d had her, and the ways he hadn’t. He could make love to her every day for a month and find something new to try, some new place on her lush body to explore with his hands and his mouth.
But one thing immediately came to mind.
“Turn over,” he told her, his tone silky.
“With pleasure.”
She smiled up at him, her eyes gleaming with anticipation, and did as he’d asked. Oliver groaned at the sight of those pale, round globes, his hands tingling with the need to squeeze and stroke them.
“Have I ever told you how much I love your ass?”
“I don’t believe so.”
“Ever since that morning when you