7
Lisa
And did he ever kiss me. He did this thing, like when I startled him awake on the couch, where he’d inhale hard and hold his breath like he was savoring me. But I was savoring him, too, savoring every single thing about him because he kissed…with passion and aggression and not one instant of hesitation. If it were a fairy tale, I’d have said he kissed like a prince.
But, really, he kissed like a boss.
He kissed with his whole body, too, and I could feel how hard he was, and how huge, when he pressed into my stomach. I made a move to try to reach out for him, to touch him, but he wouldn’t let me—he just gripped my hands in his, pressing them farther into the downy, fluffy, luxurious mattress, and I felt him smile into the kiss.
It wasn’t like me to do this, to get in bed with a man I’d only just met. But I was just so drawn to him and so glad to be alive and so utterly floored that this gorgeous man, this boss-kissing, hip-driving, hunk of a man was the one whom I’d fainted into, that I found myself utterly swept away by it all. And for the first time in my life, I just let that happen. I didn’t question it or get self-conscious about it. I just went with it.
And it was absolutely magical.
“Tell me what you want,” he said as he pulled away from the kiss finally, letting me catch my breath.
“You. This,” I said, trying to show him as best I could from my delightfully compromised position underneath him.
“Say it.”
“I want you…”
“Where?”
“You know where.”
“Say it, Lisa,” he said, all gruff and aggressive.
“Inside me.”
“That’s what I want to hear.” He let my hands go free and came up to kneeling on either side of me. Automatically, my hand moved to his waistband, my fingers trailing along that silky map. The treasure trail was absolutely perfect. Not too much, not too little. Not wimpy, not bear-like. Just…billboard-perfect.
“Me first,” he said, crawling down my body and taking the zipper of his Jets hoodie between his front teeth. Because it was so loose on me, he couldn’t get a good grip. But I held the zipper steady, and tooth by tooth, he undid me.
“Jesus, you’re beautiful,” he said, sliding his hand down my body—and not being gentle about it either. I reached through the gap in his PJs and parted the seam of his boxers until I found him. All of him. Boss. Total boss.
Again, he growled, a deep, chesty rumble I found totally intoxicating. “I like that,” I told him. “I didn’t think you’d be a growler.”
“No?” he said, watching me as I slipped his cock free from his pants, groaning as I ran my fingertips softly over the shaft.
“I thought you’d be more polite.”
He laughed, and it made his abs ripple. Dear lord above. “I’m a lot of things, but polite isn’t one of them.” His eyes flashed at me, and then he gathered a mouthful of saliva, letting it run down onto my palm and his shaft, and even onto my thigh. I pulled on the lacy elastic top of my panties and then let it come back down onto his cock. I loved the look of that delicate lace against his throbbing veins. The perfect pairing.
The noise he made was like he’d just burned himself. “Fuck, that’s hot…”
It really, really was. I sat up so I could get a better look. The lace was just below the head, and the delicate fabric accentuated how big he really was. But he didn’t let me savor it for long. He planted his hand on the mattress and climbed off of me, hooking the waistband of his boxers and his pajama bottoms in one smooth movement. Everything fell to the floor at once. And there he was, in all his holy-shit glory.
“Are you for real?” I asked, staring at him. Huge, absolutely freaking huge.
“Are you for real?” he asked, climbing on top of me again. He pulled his hoodie off me, balling it up and tossing it off into the darkened corner of the room. I made a move to wriggle out of my panties, but he grabbed my hand hard. “Those stay exactly where they are.”
Working his length with one hand, he moved my panties aside with the other, and then he positioned himself at my opening.
“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he said, moving one finger over me and up to the edge of my clit. He didn’t go right for the center, bless him, but instead made a very focused circle around it. Exactly the right way, exactly the way I liked. This guy knew what he was doing.
And what he was doing was me.
“Oh God…” I said, with my face halfway into the pillows.
“Look at me,” he said, sudden and greedy.
I turned my face toward him, and we locked eyes. He brought one hand up to my jaw, almost pinching my cheeks. Dominant and dreamy and all the very best things. “You ready?” he asked.
As I nodded, I pressed my jaw into his palm, and his grip softened. He moved a lock of my hair aside. And then he pressed into me, making a wave of yes roll right through me.