Twenty-Three
Madelyn
He exhaled harshly. He grabbed whatever box his hand happened across first and ripped it open, never losing his focus on me.
I heard the box hit the floor as he held up the line of condoms. Savagely, he tore one off and freed it from the wrapper. Pleasure glided through me. No man had ever seemed so desperate to experience me. The way he spoke in his e-mails was no different from the way he treated me in person: I was always beautiful, and always wanted.
My throat tightened as emotions gathered in my chest, making it a little harder to breathe. Thoughts began to cloud my focus.
He kissed me hard, drawing my attention bac k to the moment, to him. His hands worked between us before he closed his arms around me, and moved us, switching our positions. Never losing my lips, he drew us both onto the bed, not stopping until his back hit the pillows.
My legs fell , draping around his. My chest rose and fell with every harsh, gasped-for breath. My back arched, my hips rocked and my desire surged with each brush of his fingers across my nipples. His cock stroked my clit repeatedly with each of my motions, taking me higher.
It became too hard to breathe and kiss him. He seemed to sense that because he broke away from my mouth and kissed a seductive line to my neck.
I moaned as he sucked on my tender flesh. Every swipe of his tongue across my damp skin, every tweak of my nipples between his fingers, every brush of his cock against my clit wound me tauter, had me grabbing at him, digging my nails into his flesh.
My whimpers seemed to echo in the room, making me hyperaware of my single-sided pleasure. The lights told me he not only heard my arousal, felt it against his wrapped member, b ut he also saw every inch of it; every extra curvy inch of my desire was on display.
But I didn’t care.
“You’re so damn beautiful.” He abandoned my breasts. He thrust his fingers into my hair, lifting it off of my neck as he drew me to his lips again.
My muscles clamped, feeling as though they were being wrung dry, compressed by a thousand pounds of yearning. My pussy wept for this man, begged for this sexy soldier. My heart raced, shouting in agreement that he was wanted and needed.
I gasped for air around his lips. “Please, Tay.”
He didn’t respond. Rather, he kissed me harder, thrust his tongue deeper inside the crevice of my mouth, as if to offer me some erotic promise.
In one quick move, he slid us down a little on the bed. A squeal escaped me as he flipped me, as though I didn’t weigh more than him.
My back was to his hard front, balanced atop him. His arms held me securely around my mid-section, assuring me I wouldn’t tumble. His legs were bent between mine, leaving me open and vulnerable for him.
A shudder worked through me as he seemed to curl around me, aligning his cock at my entrance. He brushed my hair aside, exposing my neck. He planted a single kiss on my left shoulder. “You do whatever you need to do to get off, okay, beautiful?”
My throat suddenly tightened. That’s why he chose this position. It allowed us to have an equal opportunity. It was important to him that I found my pleasure. Tears returned, burning my eyes. Little did he know that just e-mailing with him, let alone being near him, with him, brought me pleasure.
When I didn’t reply, his hands moved in opposite directions. His forearms clamped me to him, but one set of fingers assaulted my right nipple, the other circled my clit. “If you need more, you tell me.”
Before I could even attempt to reply, he drove his cock into me. My grip tightened on his forearms as a cry broke from me. Pleasure burst through my body before it was buried beneath a stronger need, a larger craving for more.
He set a rapid pace I couldn’t keep up with. His hands never faltered and neither did his rhythm. He pummeled me with force, with purpose. Each stroke awakened fresh tingles, sent fresh pleasure fluttering through me before it was