It should be noted my underwear was clean, but functional. G-strings sucked if you got sweaty with nerves.
He didn’t seem to mind my waist-high briefs. He palmed me, and I bit my lip as I arched into the touch.
“Guess fair is fair.” He stripped out his coat first, tossing it onto a chair across from the bed. Then his shirt.
Oh sweet heaven on Earth. My poor panties would never dry.
He had the leanest, meanest body I’d ever had the pleasure of seeing. No fat on him. Abs I wanted to touch. A vee I wanted to explore.
A smoldering expression on his face as he suddenly covered my body with his own. My thighs spread, welcoming his hard body. Even through the material of his jeans, I could feel his hardness. No doubting he wanted me.
I loosely locked my legs around him, drawing him close, lifting my hips to grind against him.
He obliged, rubbing me in a way that drew a gasp and had me grabbing for the comforter in my fisted hands.
He hummed his pleasure and then nipped at my tongue when my hands slid over his flesh and ended with my nails digging into the muscles of his back.
“Fuck me,” he muttered against my mouth, and I knew he was close to losing control.
That made two of us.
I grabbed at my own jacket, got caught trying to remove it, and needed his help.
It should have been awkward. It turned out hot and sexy, as he touched me all over as he helped strip me. With my shirt gone, he braced himself on one arm so his other hand could skim over my belly. His fingers traced the skin leading to my breast. He squeezed and cupped, kneaded it as his callused fingers found my nipple. He tweaked it. Rolled it. Dipped his head to catch an erect nipple with his lips.
Oh hell yeah. I arched, thrusting it against his mouth. Making my pleasure known. He sucked my areola, even gently bit.
He switched sides and did it again. I bit my lip lest I cry out.
He did it again.
I groaned. “Xavion.” I didn’t even realize my fingers dug into his scalp and tugged at his hair. My need had me mindless.
I wanted to come. For the pleasure to never stop.
I needed him.
I shoved at him until he raised himself high enough I could reach for his pants. He had to adjust his position to assist, but at least he didn’t argue.
They unbuttoned easily enough, and then I was shoving at them, stopping only when his dick, going commando, popped into view.
Damn.
He got worried because I stared at it.
“You okay?” he asked.
Better than okay. It was like Christmas morning.
The dick of all dicks.
“If you ask me one more time, I will finish myself off while you watch.”
Which might actually be more torturous for me.
At least he didn’t need any more encouragement.
His hands gripped my thighs. Parted them. He fingered the edge of my panties, touching the edge of my lip. He decided to torture me by placing a kiss on my leg above my knee. Then higher.
He blew on me. Hot enough, and hard enough, I felt it and cried out. “Damn you, stop teasing me.”
Over me he appeared, his arms braced on either side. The head of his dick nudged, and he stared at me. I stared right back, until he starting pushing into me. Then my head tilted, and I sighed at the stretch.
The pulse.
The connection inside me.
His lips found mine as he sank even deeper, nudging me in that special spot that hitched my breath. I clung to him. Clawed him when he gave a bump and hit me good in my special spot. My hips tilted, inviting him deeper.
He took it slow. Grinding at me in a way that held me on orgasm’s edge. My body tensed. Wanted. And he teased.
“Give it to me,” I demanded.
“Fuck,” he uttered into my mouth as he pumped me, faster and faster, the friction, the stretch, the bump…
When my orgasm hit, my mouth opened wide, and it would have been an epic scream if I’d had the breath to eject it.
My whole body exploded with pleasure. I went rigid, my mind blank. It must have been uncomfortable when I clamped down super hard on his dick.
He liked it.
Hot spurts and the deep pulsing of his cock showed him coming, and then like a man, he collapsed on top of me.
I didn’t mind. I hugged him and reveled in how he struggled to catch his breath, his face buried in the crook of my neck and shoulder.
“Shit. I must be squishing you,” he finally said. Keeping our bodies joined, he managed to roll so I lay on top of him.
I was okay with that. Especially when I pushed up and his semihard dick still inside me gave me a pleasurable jolt.
He groaned.
I grinned. “Don’t tell me you’re done for the night.” Bold, but I was feeling pretty good after epic sex. “You know, my dildo never lets me down.”
But it lacked that one thing that made the orgasm better. Companionship.
“Who said I was done?” He thrust up into me. Already harder than before.
“Well, I never did find out how old you are. Could be a man your age needs time to recover.”
“Are you daring me to fuck you?”
“Yes.” I couldn’t help but grin as I ground myself against him.
He got bigger.
And that climax of before? Good, but already I craved another.
I rode him, slowly rotating my hips, tits out so that he could play with them.
Cowgirl was a nice position for control. I knew where I wanted the tip of his dick grinding. And for added fun, his tweaks of my nipples gave me extra jolts.
He stared at me as I rode, my hips rocking and rolling against him. I could tell his excitement level by how tense his jaw went and how his expression smoldered.
I bit my lip as I continued to ride, clenching him tight. Staring at him as I came.
Feeling a connection that shook me to the core.
My turn to collapse in a boneless heap on him.
He held me, hand stroking my back.
Saying nothing.
Which was good, because he probably would have ruined it.
And I so wanted to bask in what it felt like to be happy.
He, on the other hand, cursed. “Fuck me! I forgot to reset the traps.” Because he’d ben distracted.
By me.
As I watched his naked ass bolt for the door, I smiled. I could get used to this.
Chapter 11
For the first time in forever, I slept cuddled in someone’s arms. Woke to Xavion lightly kissing my shoulder.
I shoved him. “Ew. Way too sticky. I need to wash first.”
He chuckled. “Fair enough. How does a shower sound?”
Say what? Most water coming out of pipes these days was dirty. It required filtering to even drink. Clean water meant putting out buckets and hauling them. Despite the effort, I fetched enough water to washcloth myself a few times a week.
But Xavion didn’t have a bucket. He had a shower.
“There’s no hot water,” he said, “but lucky for us, this building actually had a rooftop cistern. It’s still collecting and dispensing.”
As if I cared. I welcomed the cold water and the soap. I’d not had a proper cleanse since the last rainstorm when I’d stood on a rooftop shivering, hoping I didn’t get killed because I wanted shampooed hair.
Today, I didn’t shower alone, and even better, I enjoyed a morning sausage. First the dick kind, then an actual hunk of meat.
“Where did you find this?” I asked as he handed me some salted jerky. The store-bought kind had long expired and gone rancid.