Stealing Rose
Page 31
While a man works my body with his skilled fingers, a man I barely know. A man who’s making me feel everything more intensely than I’ve ever experienced it before.
The mattress moves when he shifts position and then his mouth is on my backside, kissing and licking my flesh, nibbling it. All while his fingers still move inside of me, his thumb stretching up to rub my clit, his other hand holding my hip. A moan moves through me when he blazes a trail across my skin, his mouth drawing closer and closer, until he’s right there … oh my God, right fucking there.
He licks me at the same time he removes his fingers from my pussy. I feel the loss keenly, a whimper escaping me, but then both of his hands are gripping my hips and he’s sliding beneath me, his tongue playing with my folds, his lips wrapping around my clit.
“Ride my face,” he instructs me and it sounds so dirty, God. But a fresh gush of wetness floods my pussy at his command and I do as he says, backing up against his face until I can feel the stubble on his chin tickling my sensitive flesh, his tongue spearing me, his fingers coming back into play as well.
It’s sensory overload. I open my eyes and turn to look at the large mirror above the dresser on the opposite wall. I can see myself and oh, I look a mess. My hair everywhere, my pale skin blotchy and red, my nipples hard as my breasts sway with my movements. I sit up a little, the better to see myself, and that’s when Caden’s head comes into view, his mussed hair between my legs, his big hand gripping my hip so hard his fingers dent my flesh.
“Oh.” The little sound falls from my lips, drawing his attention, and he stops what he’s doing so I have no choice but to look down at him. He’s smiling up at me, his lips wet, his chin wet too, and he looks so devious, like a wicked boy who’s just been caught doing something extra naughty, that I can’t help but smile at him in return.
“You’re watching me do this to you in the mirror, aren’t you?” he asks.
I nod and return my attention to the mirror, letting my gaze drift so I can take in his long body stretched out beyond me. His cock is full and thick—hard to believe I had that thing in my mouth only minutes ago, coming so much I’m downright thankful he didn’t want me to swallow—and his erection brushes against my ass. I reach behind me and touch him, my fingers sliding down his length, making him groan against my pussy, and the vibrations his deep voice makes against my skin is unbelievably delicious.
I keep my fingers wrapped around him and stroke him slowly just as he returns his attention to my clit. I watch in the mirror, the way I move my hips as I ride his face, the fumbling grasp I have on his thick cock, the way my breasts bounce when I toss my head back, my hair falling down my back and tickling my skin.
Again, it’s sensory overload. It smells like sex in the room. Sex mixed with the scent of my body lotion and the scent of Caden, spicy male and clean with just the faintest hint of sweat. I release my hold on his cock and rest my hand between my legs, gathering the wetness there, lightly touching the side of Caden’s face for a brief moment before I return my slicked fingers back to his cock and continue stroking.
“Holy shit,” he mutters against my pussy and I go still, my breath catching, my chest heaving just as his tongue flicks my clit, sending me right over that hanging edge. I release my hold on him and practically collapse on his face, leaning forward so both of my hands are resting on the mattress.
My entire body shudders as I rock against his face, his fingers, his tongue. He encourages me with filthy words, things I’ve never had a man say to me while having sex. Urging me on to fuck his face, come on his lips, all sorts of wicked things that seem to somehow string my orgasm even further along, until I feel like I’m coming completely undone.
I finally collapse, rolling over so I don’t fall upon him, lying there on the mattress as I stare up at the ceiling, my chest heaving, my heart beating so hard I swear it’s going to break through bone and flesh and fly right out of me. Closing my eyes, I rest my forearm across them, wiping at the sweat that trickles on my forehead.
The mattress shifts again; I can feel Caden hovering above me, but I don’t drop my arm. Not yet. I need the protection, the block to keep me separated from him for just a few moments longer. He touches me, drifting his fingers across my breasts, down my belly and back up, circling first one nipple, then the other. A shiver steals through me and I try to roll away from him, but he stops me with a firm hand on my hip.
“Watching you come is the single most fascinating thing I think I’ve ever witnessed,” he murmurs, his gravelly, deep voice full of warm approval.
I slowly drop my arm from my face and meet his gaze, ready for the embarrassment, the shame to sweep over me and swallow me whole. I can’t believe we just did that. Can’t believe he just said those things to me, did those things to me, and how much I liked it.
But the embarrassment and the shame don’t come. He bends over me, his hair tumbling across his forehead and brushing mine when he kisses me, his lips full and soft and so incredibly sweet. I say nothing. It’s as if all cognitive thought has flown from my brain and my vocabulary is down to nothing. And when he lifts away from me, his brows are furrowed, there’s a little line between them, and his beautiful mouth is turned down.
“Are you alive?” He waves his hand in front of my face and then holds it in front of my mouth. “You’re breathing. I can feel it. Maybe I just put you into shock with that earth-shattering orgasm?”
The mattress moves when he shifts position and then his mouth is on my backside, kissing and licking my flesh, nibbling it. All while his fingers still move inside of me, his thumb stretching up to rub my clit, his other hand holding my hip. A moan moves through me when he blazes a trail across my skin, his mouth drawing closer and closer, until he’s right there … oh my God, right fucking there.
He licks me at the same time he removes his fingers from my pussy. I feel the loss keenly, a whimper escaping me, but then both of his hands are gripping my hips and he’s sliding beneath me, his tongue playing with my folds, his lips wrapping around my clit.
“Ride my face,” he instructs me and it sounds so dirty, God. But a fresh gush of wetness floods my pussy at his command and I do as he says, backing up against his face until I can feel the stubble on his chin tickling my sensitive flesh, his tongue spearing me, his fingers coming back into play as well.
It’s sensory overload. I open my eyes and turn to look at the large mirror above the dresser on the opposite wall. I can see myself and oh, I look a mess. My hair everywhere, my pale skin blotchy and red, my nipples hard as my breasts sway with my movements. I sit up a little, the better to see myself, and that’s when Caden’s head comes into view, his mussed hair between my legs, his big hand gripping my hip so hard his fingers dent my flesh.
“Oh.” The little sound falls from my lips, drawing his attention, and he stops what he’s doing so I have no choice but to look down at him. He’s smiling up at me, his lips wet, his chin wet too, and he looks so devious, like a wicked boy who’s just been caught doing something extra naughty, that I can’t help but smile at him in return.
“You’re watching me do this to you in the mirror, aren’t you?” he asks.
I nod and return my attention to the mirror, letting my gaze drift so I can take in his long body stretched out beyond me. His cock is full and thick—hard to believe I had that thing in my mouth only minutes ago, coming so much I’m downright thankful he didn’t want me to swallow—and his erection brushes against my ass. I reach behind me and touch him, my fingers sliding down his length, making him groan against my pussy, and the vibrations his deep voice makes against my skin is unbelievably delicious.
I keep my fingers wrapped around him and stroke him slowly just as he returns his attention to my clit. I watch in the mirror, the way I move my hips as I ride his face, the fumbling grasp I have on his thick cock, the way my breasts bounce when I toss my head back, my hair falling down my back and tickling my skin.
Again, it’s sensory overload. It smells like sex in the room. Sex mixed with the scent of my body lotion and the scent of Caden, spicy male and clean with just the faintest hint of sweat. I release my hold on his cock and rest my hand between my legs, gathering the wetness there, lightly touching the side of Caden’s face for a brief moment before I return my slicked fingers back to his cock and continue stroking.
“Holy shit,” he mutters against my pussy and I go still, my breath catching, my chest heaving just as his tongue flicks my clit, sending me right over that hanging edge. I release my hold on him and practically collapse on his face, leaning forward so both of my hands are resting on the mattress.
My entire body shudders as I rock against his face, his fingers, his tongue. He encourages me with filthy words, things I’ve never had a man say to me while having sex. Urging me on to fuck his face, come on his lips, all sorts of wicked things that seem to somehow string my orgasm even further along, until I feel like I’m coming completely undone.
I finally collapse, rolling over so I don’t fall upon him, lying there on the mattress as I stare up at the ceiling, my chest heaving, my heart beating so hard I swear it’s going to break through bone and flesh and fly right out of me. Closing my eyes, I rest my forearm across them, wiping at the sweat that trickles on my forehead.
The mattress shifts again; I can feel Caden hovering above me, but I don’t drop my arm. Not yet. I need the protection, the block to keep me separated from him for just a few moments longer. He touches me, drifting his fingers across my breasts, down my belly and back up, circling first one nipple, then the other. A shiver steals through me and I try to roll away from him, but he stops me with a firm hand on my hip.
“Watching you come is the single most fascinating thing I think I’ve ever witnessed,” he murmurs, his gravelly, deep voice full of warm approval.
I slowly drop my arm from my face and meet his gaze, ready for the embarrassment, the shame to sweep over me and swallow me whole. I can’t believe we just did that. Can’t believe he just said those things to me, did those things to me, and how much I liked it.
But the embarrassment and the shame don’t come. He bends over me, his hair tumbling across his forehead and brushing mine when he kisses me, his lips full and soft and so incredibly sweet. I say nothing. It’s as if all cognitive thought has flown from my brain and my vocabulary is down to nothing. And when he lifts away from me, his brows are furrowed, there’s a little line between them, and his beautiful mouth is turned down.
“Are you alive?” He waves his hand in front of my face and then holds it in front of my mouth. “You’re breathing. I can feel it. Maybe I just put you into shock with that earth-shattering orgasm?”
