whisper to her. “Let this be a fantasy come to life.”
She bites her lip and nods, pulling it back down over one breast, leaving the other exposed, the pink nipple tightening, her hands continuing to skim down her sides until she’s parting her legs.
Turns out I was right. No underwear at all.
I let my gaze fall on her, taking her all in. She’s already wet and beautiful.
Fuck me.
I take off my shirt and pants (no underwear for me) and prowl over to her on the bed, the heat of my body pressing against the heat of hers, my cock thick and throbbing between us, twitching desperately for purchase.
But I take my time.
I kiss her lips, the corner of her mouth, her jaw.
Suck at her earlobe until she’s gasping and squirming.
Lick along her smooth neck and yank down the collar of the shirt to taste her delicate collarbone until she’s making my favorite, breathless little sounds.
I move down, my palms skimming over her body like I’m playing an instrument, knowing all the right places to hit in order to produce all the right notes.
Her gasps are music to my ears.
I knead her breasts, suck and nip at her nipples until they’re hard pebbles in my mouth, then continue to place long, wet kisses down her soft stomach, until my lips find a home between her legs.
“Alejo,” she gasps as her hands go into my hair, and I lose myself to the feeling of pleasuring her, how decadent she tastes, how her body responds like clockwork to my every touch. At this point, when we’re together, we are one. There is no second-guessing, no wondering; we meld to each other like second nature. It’s hard to imagine this being any other way.
Heat slides through my veins, building in my dick as I continue to lick her out, pausing to swirl around her clit before my tongue plunges inside her.
She loves this. I love this. I reach down and stroke my cock, feeling the precum slide from tip to the base, and I know this could be a mistake, that I might come before I’m ready, but it’s so fucking hard not to touch myself.
Especially when she’s squeezing my head between her thighs, hips bucking up into me, fucking my mouth. Desperation licks at my skin and I respond by ravaging her.
Thalia comes with a long, drawn-out groan, her back arching, hips up and limbs shaking, pulsing under my tongue. But I know this is just the first orgasm for her, the first of many.
I get off the bed and stand at the end of it, holding my cock rigid between my thumb and forefinger.
Thalia knows what to give me and wastes no time.
Her chest still heaving, she crawls to the end of the bed, and a visceral thrill runs through me as she holds onto my cock, bringing it to her open mouth, all while I can see my name emblazoned on the back of her shirt. When I was younger, when I played with that shirt, I had enough women to keep me occupied, but none of them were like her. None of them were this beautiful, this secure with their sexuality, this confident in what they want in the bedroom, while giving me exactly what I want.
None of them had my heart in the way that she does.
She slowly licks around my head, really taking her time to taste me with her tongue, like I’m a melting cone of gelato, gazing up at me with those glittering eyes.
Then she deep throats me.
All the way down, her teeth razing my length.
Jesus.
My eyes roll back in my head, my body stiffens, and everything inside me tightens like a wire.
She knows how to suck a guy off, that’s for sure.
But as much as I love coming in her mouth or on her breasts, tonight I need to celebrate my victory by coming inside her.
When I’m unbearably close to shooting my load down the back of her throat, I put my hand on her head and gently push her back.
“Let me come inside you,” I tell her, my voice raspy and faint as she stares up at me with a very wet, swollen mouth.
She smiles and leans back on her knees.
“Am I free to take the shirt off now?” she asks as she starts to raise it above her head.
I nod, giving her a hoarse, “Si,” as she takes it off and tosses it.