“You are by wearing those shorts,” I say. I don’t know why I say it, maybe because I’m so far gone at this point, but I’m desperate for something, anything.
With his eyes still on mine, he reaches to his waistband, pulls his cock out, and strokes his length right in front of me.
Girthy.
Long.
Promising.
“Is this what you wanted?” he asks. “You wanted this cock?”
Yes.
I also want your lips.
Your hands.
Your body.
“Tell me why you’re hard.” I attempt to remove my hand from under my bustier again, but he stops me once again.
“Touch yourself,” he demands. “I know you want to. I know you need to. Touch yourself, and I’ll tell you why I’m hard.”
I seal my lips together and slip my fingers along my slit until they press against my clit. With two fingers, I gently massage it while my legs spread on the mattress.
His eyes fall to where I’m pleasuring myself and then back up. He wets his lips and lowers one hand to the mattress, bringing him closer while he continues to stroke himself.
“That’s it, keep touching yourself, Kelsey. Tell me how wet you are.”
“Tell me why you’re hard, first,” I counter.
“I’m hard because of the way you walk through this penthouse, acting as if you don’t have any interest in me, but your eyes tell me differently. I’m hard because you have no fucking clue just how alluring you are, how fucking sexy you are. I’m hard because the taste of your pussy is lingering on my tongue, and if I truly had my way, you’d be stripped naked, tied to this bed, waiting for me to pleasure you.”
“If you had your way?” I ask, a hitch in my voice. “What does that mean?”
His thumb reaches up and traces my face, down my neck, and across my arm. “You aren’t mine.” He lets go of his cock and moves me on the bed, making room so he can kneel in front of me. Then he removes my hand from where I’m pleasuring myself and brings his cock to my slit, running it against the fabric. The sensation is absolute torture, feeling him this close, just a miniscule fabric blocking our connection. “If you were mine, there would be nothing between us.”
That light pressure, the barely-there feeling of his cock mixed with the erotic nature of what he’s doing, sends an intense yearning through me. A need so strong that my mind starts to black out. The only thing it’s focused on is relief.
Relief from the buildup.
Relief from this night.
Relief from the tension between us.
He lifts his cock and taps the head right on my clit.
“Fuck,” I whisper as I drape my arm over my eyes and breathe heavily.
“You like that, don’t you?”
My teeth roll over my bottom lip.
“Tell me you like it and I’ll do it again.”
God, I hate him . . . why is he making me admit things I don’t want to admit?
“Say it, Kelsey.”
“I . . . I like it,” I stammer, and he taps his dick on my clit a few more times.
My pelvis rises, my skin breaks out in a sweat, and my control starts to slip. And then to my surprise, he pulls the fabric covering my pussy to the side, exposing me, and lets the head of his cock lightly rub against me.
“Oh God,” I moan as my legs spread even farther. “Oh yes . . . JP.”
“Fuck, you’re so wet.”
“More,” I beg. I want more.
He glides his cock over my clit two more times and then with a groan, he pulls away and resumes pumping his length vigorously above me.
“If you want more, you need to fuck yourself,” he says, his voice strained. My eyes follow his gestures, the slide of his hand over his thick erection, the veins running down his length, the tension in his chest as he breathes heavily, staring down at me.
It’s so freaking hot, so sexy, that my fingers find my clit again and start massaging in fast circles. The first inkling of my orgasm starts to wrap around my muscles, through my back, along my ribs, into my stomach.
“Fuck . . . you’re there, aren’t you?” he asks. “You’re almost there.”
I nod, keeping my teeth clenched as my chest heaves, my fingers moving faster. My eyes stay focused on his hand that’s pulling, tugging on his length, the thick veins in his tattooed forearms straining just like the rest of his body.
“God,” I mutter as my body starts to seize on me. The overwhelming sensation of pleasure is at its early stages, pulsing through my veins and zeroing in on the spot between my legs. “Yes,” I whisper, my eyes shutting as I let myself fall into the hands of my orgasm.