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Reception

Page 25

   


He finally looked directly at her.
Jackpot.
“I want you to be on top of me.”
“Well, that's just asking too much,” she said in a dramatic voice, and they both laughed.
She kissed him again, trying to bring back the sensual mood he'd created so well just moments before. She pressed her body against every inch of his, forcing them onto their sides. When she rolled him onto his back, he moved a hand into her hair, and she was pleasantly surprised to feel him pulling. Not hard, but enough that she felt the tug.
Now we're getting somewhere.
“Can I tell you things?” he whispered as she put her knees on either side of his hips, forcing her ass into the air.
“Tell me anything,” she breathed, keeping her chest flush with his while she kissed the side of his face and his ear.
“I like the way you smell,” he sighed. She smiled against his skin.
“I never knew.”
“And the way you feel. You're very soft.”
“Thank you.”
She propped herself up over him and stared down at him for a second, then she kissed him gently.
“No going back, Sanders,” she whispered, running her hand down his body and between her legs. “I'm not going to force you, but I want to do this. I want you to do it with me.”
“I want this,” he agreed, his fingers spearing into her hair and holding it away from her face. “As of right now, you are truly the only person I feel comfortable enough with to engage in this kind of activity.”
“But it will only be now,” she warned him. “Only while we're here. Is that okay?”
He nodded.
“I wouldn't want anything ese,” he promised. “Nor would I ask for it.”
She had one hand on his chest, holding her up, and her other hand was wrapped around him. Holding him. Guiding him. She had kind of hoped he would look at her when it happened. She wanted him to remember this moment. But his eyes were closed, his head tilted back, his lips parted. She couldn't wait any longer, so she slowly slid down his erection.
“Ooohhh, wow,” she breathed, finally taking him to the hilt.
“This ...” he sighed. “Thank you.”
She laughed softly.
“Congrats. You're not a virgin anymore,” she informed him, smoothing her hand down the side of his face. He didn't open his eyes, but he chuckled and moved his hands to her hips.
“Perhaps I am wrong, but I think I'm a virgin until I actually orgasm,” he informed her. She snickered.
“Oh, well then, better get to work.”
“No rush.”
She laughed again, but it was cut short when he moved his hips under her. She gasped when she felt his hands squeezing her, urging her to move. She obliged, rocking against him, sliding up and down his hard length.
He was quiet, which for a person with Tate's fetishes somewhat unnerved her, but he was big enough that it really didn't matter too much. He also had rhythm – she remembered he'd taken dancing lessons and wondered if they were coming in handy now. For it being his first time, she was very impressed. So he wasn't a talker; most people weren't, she had to remember. This was about him finding out what he liked, not about knowing what she already liked.
However, she was a little surprised when he finally did speak.
“Faster,” he urged. She chuckled and started riding him harder.
Then she was really surprised when she felt his hand on her chest. He was pushing at her, forcing her to sit upright. She was happy to do so, moaning when she felt him even deeper than before. Her hands went into her hair, lifting the long tresses off her neck and shoulders.
His hands, once he'd started moving them, didn't stop wandering. They slid around to her back, pressing down hard to enough to feel like a massage. She groaned when they finally came back to her breasts, cupping them and lifting them. She knew it was all supposed to be about him and letting him lead the way and whatnot, but she couldn't help herself. She dropped her hands to his, squeezing them over her breasts, then she dragged his right hand up to her face. She wrapped her lips around the base of his index finger, then slowly pulled it free, sucking as she went.
“Oh my god,” he groaned, and it was probably the most uncontrolled she'd ever heard him sound the entire time they'd known each other.
Who knew that would be so hot?
She couldn't handle it. Sanders could be as quiet as he wanted, but she simply couldn't.
“Oh, god,” she gasped for air as she rocked on top of him. “I'm going to … I can't … I'm going to come.”
“Is too soon bad?” he asked through gritted teeth. She laughed, then let out a sharp cry as a tremor ripped through her body.
“Coming is never ever ever a bad thing,” she replied, pressing both her hands against his chest. He finally opened his eyes and looked at her.
“I don't want this to end yet,” he breathed. She shook her head.
“It's not ending any time soon,” she promised, starting to shake all over.
But he was full of surprises. She let out a shriek when he abruptly rolled them over, his arms wrapping around her and holding her tight. When they finally came to a stop, he was on top of her and she was impaled on him. She couldn't remember how to breathe.
“Is it always like this?” he asked, not moving. It took her a few seconds to be able to answer.
“No ...” she squeaked out, scratching her nails down his chest, silently begging him to move and alternately praying that he'd stay just where he was. “No. Sometimes … it's not good. Not fun. But this … this ...”
“This is so good,” he groaned, pulling out so slowly she thought she was going to go insane.
“Fuck, yes. Yes, it fucking is,” she agreed quickly.
“You said I could do anything, correct?”
“Yes. Anything. Whatever you want. Please.”
“I think I like it when you do that.”
“God, what? I'll do anything. What did I do?”
“Beg.”
Kinky little fucker.
“Please, Sanders,” she breathed his name as she started moving around. She had some practice with begging – maybe she and Sanders had similar tastes, after all. “Please, please, please. Do whatever you want to me. Do anything you want. I want you to. God, so much. Please. Don't stop.”