“Look at me.”
The words I had been half hoping for, half dreading. Would he be able to tell what I was thinking? I opened my eyes and looked up at him, letting him see how vulnerable I was before him and how much I wanted to please him. The expression on his face almost stopped my breath. There was so much love in his eyes, such emotion, and I swallowed against the lump in my throat and blinked back tears of joy mixed sickeningly with guilt. How very much I loved this man, and what I had done to him…
He swept me into his arms and kissed me hard, his hands roaming my body again. Our tongues tangled; his determinedly invading my mouth, mine softly yielding to his touch. I leaned against him, wishing that I could hold him too. I pressed my body against his, wanting to show him how much he meant to me, hoping that would be enough.
He broke the kiss and moved slightly, his hand slipping between our bodies to tease me between my legs again. I was soaking wet. How could I be otherwise? He did not even need to touch me to provoke this reaction. When we were together, his presence was enough and, when apart, just the thought of him was all I needed. My body was not mine any more. It responded to him, ached for him, whether I would wish it or not. I could deny him nothing.
He lifted his hand to my mouth; his fingers wet, and gently painted my lips with my own juices. I tasted my arousal on my tongue but would have no more dared to wipe it away, than I would think to say ‘no’ to him. I stood with my mouth open, my juices trickling down my chin, awaiting his pleasure.
He pressed his fingers further into my mouth, probing deeply and I tried to relax, to let him penetrate where he would, but I choked as his finger reached the back of my mouth. “No,” he yelled and I shrank back, mortified that I had not been able to give him what he required of me. I hurried to open my mouth again, concentrating hard on relaxing my throat, and this time I was fully open to him.
He removed his hand from my mouth and lifted my dress, stroking and exploring my breasts. I licked his fingers when asked and he circled my nipples so lightly and tenderly that it was almost difficult to believe that he could ever hurt me.
His touch on my breasts roughened and he gripped them tightly, crushing my nipples. I closed my eyes, torn once again between pain and pleasure; so aroused it was close to unbearable. My knees weakened and I leaned against him, my head resting against his shoulder. I could feel the hard length of his cock pressing against my hip and I moved just a little against it, hoping, despite what I’d done, that this time he would use my body; that I would feel him deep inside me.
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