When I read stories about people having sex in elevators, it always feels so tacky. I’ve always thought that people who do it in public have something they're trying to prove.

Turns out, doing it in an elevator is fantastic. It isn't just the thrill of doing it in a different place than the straightforward bedroom scene, but being in a position that could possibly get you caught is something else entirely.

When we finally step out of the elevator, I'm reeling. My body feels numb and buzzing, all at the same time. My legs are weak, and I'm breathing hard, like we’ve run the stairs, rather than taking the elevator. Thomas looks calm and collected as always. Sex is still new to me, and I feel like a child with a new toy. Thomas is used to playing it cool afterward, apparently, but when we were in the middle of things, he seemed just as excited as I was.

When he unlocks his front door, though, he looks at me, and for the first time since we’ve met, he looks nervous.

"You can’t judge me by what you see inside, okay?" he asks.

I nod. "I don’t really know if there’s anything to judge you on, already. You seem pretty perfect, to be honest."

"That’s the type of thing I’m talking about," he says.

I blink, not understanding. "Okay."

He pushes the front door open and lets me walk in first.

As soon as I walk through the doors, I realize what he's trying to say to me. The apartment is bigger than anything I’ve ever been in, and everything practically drips with luxury. I walk into an entrance hall with a chandelier that hangs from the ceiling. All the rooms are tiled with large, marble tiles, and the walls are painted a coffee color to match. The dining room is through the next door with a glass table and suede chairs. Full-length windows look out over Manhattan.

To the left, I see a living room with leather couches facing the windows with a monster television to the side. I can just imagine what the rest of the place looks like.

"What do you think?" Thomas asks, coming up behind me. I spin around.

"I don’t even know what to think," I say, honestly. "This is nothing like what I expected. I mean, I knew you had money. The restaurants and the carriage ride and everything told me that. But this?"

I look around again, unable to find the words. When I look at Thomas again his eyes are on me. They're deep and dark and full of mischief.

"Do you want me to show you the rest of the apartment?" he asks. "I can give you the exclusive tour."

"An exclusive tour?" I ask. "Sounds serious."

He steps closer to me and puts his hand behind my neck. His forehead presses against mine, and he looks down at my lips.

"It is," he says. I know exactly what he wants, and in a snap, my body reacts as if the elevator had never happened. Whatever Thomas had done to me, it was good. I'm now insatiable.

I knew there was no way he was going to let me get away with bringing him to the brink like that in the elevator. In some ways I think he likes when I take control, but he also hates it, because it makes him feel weak. I absolutely love making him love control; it turns me on so much because I’ve always looked at him as a powerful man.

Being in his apartment I'm certain that he’s even more powerful than I anticipated. This is like something you see on television. I’ve lived in New York my entire life and never seen an apartment that looks anything as extravagant as this. I was worried he lived in a slum when he was so apprehensive about showing me his place.

Talking to Lisa made me worry a bit, thinking he might be hiding some things from me, but more important, he might be hiding them for a reason. I assumed he had money because of his car and the restaurants, but this is New York City, sometimes people rent a shack in the Bronx to look rich in Manhattan.

Either way, I figured he wasn’t poor, but I had no idea he was dripping in wealth. I don’t think I’ve seen him as nervous as he was walking in here since he was constantly on edge before I gave him my virginity, always afraid I was going to kick him out.

He still makes fun of me for that, but I didn’t know how to tell him. I guess we both have our secrets a bit, and I doubt his can be much bigger than mine. At the end of the day, I trust Thomas, so I can’t imagine him keeping something from me that would make me view him in a whole different light.

I feel a way that he thought I might change the way I felt about him because he had money. I’m not a gold digger or after his money, but then again, like I said, this is New York City, so his apprehensions are definitely warranted. I bet women all over this country would throw themselves at his feet – he’s handsome, rich, sexy, confident, and hung.

I’ve been shocked that I could keep his attention for so long, but he’s assured me that I’m all he can handle, and from the elevator I guess I can see why. He’s turned me into this super freak, doing and saying things I could’ve never imagined, but turning him on is my vice and I’m completely hooked on him.

Lisa calls it sprung, the way I talk about him all the time, but I don’t care. He’s special to me and so I want to treat him that way. I like talking about him all the time, missing him the moment he leaves, and pining over him whenever we’re in the same space. Besides, it isn’t like I’m alone in this obsession; he can’t keep his hands off of me either. It’s most definitely a two-way street.

We’ve never talked much about his past. I guess I’m just getting around to asking him questions tonight. While I’m sure he has had women before me, I don’t think it's been many, because if that was the case I doubt he would put them all on hold for little ole me. He’s my perfect man, although he seemed a little uncomfortable when I said that earlier. I can imagine not wanting the bar set that high, but I can’t help myself.

My feelings for Thomas seem to grow by the second, and regardless of what Lisa thinks I know it's deeper than some physical attraction or infatuation. The sex is merely icing on the cake; I was sprung before I ever felt his glorious cock.

Walking through his apartment, as he leads me through the immaculately decorated home that looks like it could be right out of an interior design magazine, I feel like I’m in a dream. Thomas may not like me calling him perfect, but he’s been nothing short of a fairy tale since he came into my life. I’ll be sure not to tell him, but he’s undoubtedly my prince charming.

"How can I miss you when you’re right in front of me?" He wraps his arms around my from behind. I know exactly how he feels, because I do the same thing often.

We’ll be at dinner together and I’ll dread going home before our appetizers have even arrived. Trying to focus on the present, I’ve forced myself to limit the amount of time I focus on the future and what’s to come or what I want to come from us.

Thomas is obviously a busy and successful man, he’s got a lot going on and the fact that he wants to spend so much of his time together with me should be enough, at least that’s what I try to tell myself. There’s never been a time when I wanted him and he rejected me or told me he was too busy, so I think I’m as high of a priority to him as he is to me.

"You’re talking to the girl who asks you for more while you’re still inside of me," I remind him and his eyes grow dark, as I glance at him over my shoulder.

"I could never get enough of you," he whispers in my ear and I felt my heart skip a beat.

Who says things like that? I may not have the experience level of Lisa, but I know romance, and I know New York men, or American men in general, are lacking in that department altogether and Thomas isn’t at all. He is kind, he showers me with gifts and attention, the man pays more attention to my body and what it likes than I do, and he says things that leave me speechless, before doing things that leave my breathless.

"You’re such a romantic," I beam, turning around to drape my arms over his shoulders, holding my chin up to off him my lips, which he takes slowly and gently, to my surprise.

I never know what I’m going to get with Thomas; he has such a repertoire with sex. Sometimes he’s soft and smooth, really sensual and slow. Other times, he’s rough and aggressive, just tearing me apart. While I like them both, I enjoy the versatility more than anything. With just one of those options I imagine I would be bored by now.

"Would you like something to drink?" he asks, pulling on a wooden cabinet that turns out to be his refrigerator.

"I’ll just have some water, if you have a glass," I motion towards his kitchen sink and he furrows his brows together before reaching into the refrigerator, returning with a clear bottle of Fiji water.

"Oh, you’re fancy," I purse my lips together in a mocking way and thank him for the water.

"So you think I’m romantic?" he quips, opening a bottle of water for himself.

"Yep, a regular prince charming," I smirk, taking a hug gulp of water.

Thomas almost spits out his water and looks at me like he’s seen a ghost. Shit! I forgot not to say that to him, after his warning not to treat him any different, I don’t want him to think it has anything to do with his apartment.

"It isn’t because of your apartment, Thomas. I honestly think it’s fabulous," I glance around the chef’s kitchen before continuing, "but I don’t really care, baby."

Holding my hands in the air, I shrug my shoulders before taking another sip of my water and watching him closely. He seems to relax, but I know that something about that bothered him so I’ve got to try to never call him that again.

Turning slowly, he opens the refrigerator again and then turns back to me with a conspiratorial look in his eye, and a mischievous grin on his face.

"Close your eyes," he says while squinting his eyes devilishly.

Without hesitation or seeking an explanation I do as I’m told. I can hear him moving around, the sound of glasses clinking together, and different containers touching the countertop beside me. Then he’s right in front of me, I can sense him although he’s silent, and my legs spread, hoping he comes closer.

"How’d you know I was in front of you? You’re peeking!" he shrieks like child before moving away quickly.

"No, I didn’t I could sense you." I try to explain through giggles.

Before I can say anything more he’s back, and this time he steps between my legs before wrapping a soft fabric around my head, covering my eyes.

"Ooh, this is soft," I reach up and touch the smooth fabric.

"Like you," he says so low I’m sure he was only speaking to himself.

"Am I allowed to touch, I reach my hands out to my sides and he quickly clasps them in a tight grip.

"No! You can only do what I tell you," he places my hands on his shoulders, and I interlock my fingers on the nape of his neck while wrapping my legs around his midsection.

"Can I have a kiss?" I ask, poking my lip out.

"You can always have a kiss, baby," he kisses my lips softly and tugs on my bottom lip. I love when he does that.

"You could sense me in front of you?" he asks. I guess he did hear me through the giggles.

"Yep! I always sense you before I see you. When you have me meet you somewhere, I can feel you watching me, or I just get a pull, like I’m supposed to be near you," I’m a little embarrassed by my admission. Without my vision its difficult to remember I’m speaking to someone else, and I’ve basically admitted my private thoughts.

"You’re always blushing," he whispers before kissing my cheeks.

"You have an effect on me, Mister," I bite my bottom lip to halt my grin from spreading.

"I can feel when you walk in the room. I swear it. Earlier at dinner you left to use the ladies room, and when you returned from behind me I could just feel it," he says as if my saying it makes it makes sense for him.

"What do you think that means?" I whisper, his face is close to mine, I can sense it and smell his aroma.

"I think it means that I’m crazy about you," he whispers on my lips, the sensation gives me chills.

"I think I like you crazy about me," I smirk.

"Oh yeah? Why is that?" He asks.

"That way I’m not out here on the island by myself," I say, again being more revealing, but still without regrets.

We sit in silence for an awkward long time, so long that I begin to worry I should be regretting what I’ve said. Not being able to read his body language has me at a serious disadvantage, but this is his game and I want to have an open mind about playing whatever it is he has in store.

"You don’t have to worry about being anywhere alone, Nicole," he begins and without seeing his eyes or facial expression, I know he’s serious because of his tone and the fact that he used my real name. "We’re in this together, okay?" he adds while placing his hands on top of mine.

"Okay," I whisper, overwhelmed with emotion, making it hard to speak clearly, so I’m more than relieved when I hear him messing around with containers as he moves about beside me, presumably preparing his game.

"Are there rules to this game?" I wonder aloud.

"Uh… Yes. The first rule is you have to do what I say," he says curtly.

"Well, that’s the regular," I sass and I can hear him smiling.

"The second rule is you have to taste things and tell me what it is," he explains excitedly.

"Okay, and then what’s my prize?" I ask.

"Prize?" he asks confused.

"Yeah, if I guess correctly, what do I win?" I clarify.

"Me," he says flatly like that should have been obvious.

Before I can begin to argue that I would’ve gotten him regardless, I decide that’s the best prize I could get, so I smile and prepare myself, ready for his game.

"Is that sufficient enough of a prize?" he asks, his lips close to mine, and then he tugs at my lip.

"I love when you do that," I breathe.

"Do you?" he asks before again tugging my lip.

"You know I do," I lean forward, over-estimated how far away he was and our lips crash together.

"What makes you so sure I knew that?" he asks after laying three soft kisses on my lips.

"Because I know that you know what I like," I bite my bottom lip as a grin threatens to spread.

"And how do you know that?" he asks.

"Because you’re the one that taught me what I like," I whisper.

I can hear the breath escape him, and although I don’t know if that’s a good or a bad thing, I can sense that he’s staring at me. Knowing that I’m under his glare makes me blush, of course. And then I feel his legs on mine, his tongue sliding into my mouth, but there’s something in his mouth. My tongue explores, tasting the creamy flavor, and he pulls away.

"What is it?" he asks excitedly.

"Hmm…" I lick my lips, savoring the flavor.

"Peanut butter?" I guess.

"Good job!" he kisses my lips.

Although I’m not technically seeing him, I’ve never seen him be so giddy and childlike. It's such a privilege to have him relax around me and show me a different side of himself, even if I am banned from watching it unfold.

I hear what sounds like a plastic container beside me, and then the sound of a drawer opening and closing.

"When did you put that peanut butter in your mouth?" I question. I was not expecting that when he leaned in to kiss me.

"I’m an excellent multi-tasker. Now, open up," he move on to the next item and I hold my mouth open until cold metal touches my tongue. Closing around the intrusion, I slide the contents off the fork and swirl my tongue in my mouth to taste the flavors.

It’s definitely chocolate, and airy, yet creamy. It’s actually quite divine.

"Can I have another bite?" I twist my lips and feel a swift kiss from him.

"Umm … No. That’s against the rules," he answers and I giggle softly.

"Baby, are you making up these rules as you go?" I challenge.

"Umm… Yes," he admits, and we both laugh. I can feel him between my legs, his hands rested on my thighs as he leans in to kiss my neck, his tongue moving in circles, as his hand lifts to massage my breast.

"Mmm…" I hum, lifting my hand to rest on the back of his head.

"I know what you like, huh?" he asks.

"Wouldn’t you say you know what I like?" I turn to his voice.

"Yeah, I would say that," he answers after a pause.

"You own my pleasure, Thomas," the words fall out of my mouth.

"What did you say?" he asks, I can hear that his throat is dry.

"Did you mishear or me or do you want to hear me say it again?" I ask, leaning forward seductively.

We sit there in silence, and I refuse to break the awkwardness, so I wait him out, knowing he's only inches from my face.

"I want to hear it again," he says lowly.

"You own, my pleasure, Thomas." I repeat, this time slowly and definitively.

"The way you just made my cock jump, I’d have to say you have the same power over me," he leans in and kisses me, but I could never say I have the same power as he does, and I don’t think he actually believes that either. Before I came along Thomas had experienced sex; he’d been pleasured by other women.

I, on the other hand, have a limited experience, only knowing sexual pleasure from Thomas, which is much different. I know he’s thought of it before, the power he has over me being the only person that’s ever felt the insides of me. I love what Thomas does to me, and in some ways I’m grateful to his girlfriends that came before me, because they’ve taught him all he knows, and he knows a lot. But it is much different to know that he’s done some of these things with other women, never knowing what is unique to the two of us.

"What was it?" he asks, returning his attention to his impromptu game.

"Chocolate mousse." I smile, knowing I’m right and he kisses me, slowly and deeply. The remnants of peanut butter are still on his tongue as he slides throughout my mouth.

"We’ll do one more, okay?" he says before moving a few jars beside me.

Something cold touches the skin behind my ear, and I flinch, instantly reaching out to Thomas, wrapping my limbs around him.

"Relax, baby," he whispers in my ear. Rubbing my thigh with one hand, he whispers in my ear while dragging the rough cold object down my neck.

"I got you, baby," he says softly before kissing my ear and continuing, "I’ll never let anything happen to you, Nicole."

"Do you promise?" I perk up, and he pauses he trail of coldness.

"Of course," he answers without hesitating.

Running my fingernails down his hairline and over his back, I feel his mouth on the opposite side of the cold object. He’s kissing me in that tongue and teeth way that feels so good, but often leaves bruises. I think he does them on person some times, marking me like I’m his territory.

"Oh, baby," I sigh.

"I like this," he places his hand over fingers, my nails tracing designs on the back of his neck. With my fingers in his grasp he brings his hand to his mouth and kisses my knuckles.

"I like you," he whispers on my fingers and I melt at his words.

"I’m going to start keeping track of all of these things you say, and write a book to teach American men romance.

"You keep saying I’m romantic," he says as if he doesn’t agree.

"You are. Now, what’s my last taste test?" I like my lips in anticipation.

"Are you in a rush? Got somewhere to be?" he jokes and I nod my head.

"Oh yeah, where to?" he teases.

"On top of you," I lean forward, whispering the words softly.

"Here," he holds the no longer cold item to my mouth and I slowly open. Biting down, my teeth cut through the flesh like texture quite easy. I begin chewing and my nose picks up the scent before I can identify the taste.

"Strawberry!" I throw my hands in the air and Thomas wraps his arms around me, lifting me from the counter and carrying me a few steps across the room.

"That’s what I mean about being romantic. What guy goes and gets strawberries because a girl is coming over?" I quip and he’s silent for a pregnant pause before stuttering.

"Well, I didn’t… Umm," He stumbles through his words and I feel like an idiot. Of course he didn’t get them for me. He probably always has strawberries in case a girl stumbles by. And this is what I mean; he could very well play this game with everyone.

"Oh, right. You’re a bachelor, of course you have strawberries and stuff," I begin, trying to rationalize this not being just for me, but he cuts me off with his actions as he sets me on another counter and roughly pulls what I now see is a silk scarf from around my eyes.

"Look at me," he says seriously, and I do, although I feel a bit mortified. "What I was struggling to admit is that I didn’t buy the strawberries. I simply put them on a list and had my housekeeper get them," he grasps my chin between the pad of his thumb and the knuckle of his index finger, forcing me to look at him.

"Okay," I breathe the word, unsure of what he wants me to understand.

"But this is for you and only you, Nicole." He looks deep into my eyes like he can see the insecurities buried deep there. "I’ve never done this with anyone else, or anything remotely this intimate. I’m not a romantic person; I just like to do special things with you. Do you get the difference?" He asks bluntly.

"Yes, of course," I answer, and I do. He is doing special things for me, and although they’re not the same, he is having firsts with me, for me.

Leaning into him, I rub the tip of my nose back and forth against his, as he does to me sometimes. My mom calls them Eskimo kisses, and they’re so sensual and intimate I’ve loved them from the very first time he did it.

"Can I take this off?" He pulls at the hem of my dress and I nod.

Without a word, he lifts my dress over my head, my bare ass feeling the cold marble beneath me. Thomas has the remnants of my lace panties stuffed in his pocket somewhere after ripping them in the elevator. Reaching behind me, he unclasps my bra, my heavy breasts falling into his hands.

His mouth automatically begins to arouse his favorite part of me, massaging one breast with his tongue and the other with his hand as my nipples harden beneath my eyes. His hand cups the nape of my neck as his mouth pushing me down until my back is flat against the marble of the large kitchen island, my legs extended. His hand softly releases my breast as feel his fingers glide down my stomach. As his tongue delicately tickles my nipple, his finger slides into my wet pussy.

"Ooh," I moan, appreciating the small bit of pressure, my body arching.

Moving his lips down my belly, he teases me with that expert tongue of his while slowly sliding his finger in and out of me, my body heating to his touch. My muscles tense and instantly crave more. With every step he takes me further, and yet I want to race along. Thomas is constantly forcing me to slow down, savor every inch of him, but my appetite is unquenchable when he’s concerned.

There’s not enough to end my desires, which are constantly multiplying as my thirst for him exceeds anything I could have imagined or am able to comprehend. My behavior shocks even me when he’s involved, the way I move and bend for him, full of desperation and lacking any self-control.

Nothing matter at this point, nothing but my pleasure, and he dangles it in front of my face until he decides I can have it, a game of both danger and torture, but one I enjoy playing so much. Glancing up, I can see in his eyes that he too enjoys the game, debatably even more than me. I love watching him change, his eyes grow darker and he always clenches his teeth together, his jaw line overly defined, like he’s biting back something.

Lying on my back, completely at his will as he works over my body before standing tall to look over my panting chest, I somehow feel extremely powerful. He is so concerned with my pleasure it’s almost like he’s a slave to it, and I know he wants to pay me back for how I behaved in the elevator. He’s definitely going to make me beg and cum all over the place, that I’m sure of.

Walking from my feet to my head, he traces my body with his fingertips, and although its not the most extreme touch, it feels electric with all of my senses heightened. I moan loudly as he circles my nipples, his fingers still wet with my arousal.

"Tell me what you want, Nicole," he leads me in the way that he has since we first slept together.

Although I like the idea of him controlling my pleasure, he doesn’t, and it’s like he always wants me to know it. He dominates me physically and can take that advantage whenever he wants, but he chooses not to, almost reminding me that he works only to pleasure me.

More importantly, I think he wants me to own my pleasure, and that’s so sexy to me. From our short time together, I’ve learned so much about my body, and what makes me tick, most of which Thomas taught me through example. I never anticipated having that type of experience from sex, and according to Lisa its not too typical.

When I think of it, nothing between us it typical really. We both have come into the other’s life and switched things up in a way neither of us saw coming. That’s what makes it so fun; it’s the spontaneity and excitement of it all. Everything is new in the beginning, but you also have the opportunity to keep it new as time goes on, and I think we both have a plan to do just that, keeping it interesting.

Knowing that Thomas has never played his taste testing game with another woman makes me feel special and even demonstrates his effort to open himself up to me in ways that don’t come natural to him.

Even bringing me to his home was a big step, one I am grateful for. Now, spread out on the marble counter of his kitchen island, my body grows weak with anticipation as he looks over my body like a surgeon, or better yet a mad scientist, deciding which part to explore first.

"Baby, what do you want?" He repeats his question and I realize I’ve not answered, lost to my own moans and delight with my body twisting and turning to lean into any attention his fingers and mouth place upon me.

"You," I answer in the way that I always do, and he smiles in the way that he always does.

"You have me, Nicole," he smirks. I knew he would say that before his lips moved to speak. Having these moments always makes me feel special. Like, we share a connection despite not having much time to get to know each other.

"I want you inside me," I clarify, and I know from the look in his eyes that my boldness has impressed and aroused him.

Taking my innocence turns him on, and watching me transition from a bashful virgin to a horny sexual stimulant, constantly open to pleasing him any and everywhere, in any and every way, must be a total mind fuck. Shocking him has grown to be more difficult, but in time like now when I manage to succeed the pay off his even greater.

Quickly, he pulls me so that I sitting on the counter, and before I can react to the coldness, he slide my ass off the counter, holding me in mid air before lowering me on his length. He’s so turned on his erection is defying gravity, standing straight in the air and I shriek as he fills me up, slowly and smoothly, my eyelids growing heavier by the second as my blood rushes through my veins.

"Oh God," I sigh, the sensation incredible.

"Mmm… you feel so good, baby. I want you slow," he warns me, knowing how deep and wide he feels when he takes his time, lazily pumping me with cock.

"Let me feel you, Thomas," I pull myself up, with my fingers interlocked behind his neck, my body moving in a snake like motion, as I wave my pelvis toward him, swallowing his manhood with my slippery opening.

It amazes me how relaxed I am on top of him, always opening to him as much as possible as he stretches me to my max with his manhood. I always imagined sex to be this tense and even awkward experience. When I imagined myself losing my virginity I thought I would be uncomfortable and uptight, but with Thomas it’s anything but that. Instead, I am at ease with him whenever we are together, regardless of what we are doing, but especially when he is inside of me.

Our bodies are colliding together perfectly, as he lifts and lowers me onto his throbbing erection. I can feel the desire pumping through him, as he grunts with every thrust, my moans overpowering his subtle expression. When Thomas is pumping me, I’m loud and vocal, unlike my normal behavior.

Gone is the bashful girl who barely speaks up for herself. Thomas always knows what I like and dislike while we make love, because I let him know, and even more because he already knows.

"Oh, fuck, baby!" He groans in my ear, and my stomach muscles tense as I bounce up and down, up and down, over and over.

"Yes! Thomas! Yes!" I yell, my waves of sensation growing stronger and more intense from my belly.

His arms are wrapped around me tightly as he hugs me close, my breasts smashed against his defined pectorals. His physique is so sexy, so enticing, it turns me on even further, running my hands around his neck before pressing my lips to his.

Our kiss is slow and sensual, much like our rhythmic sex. Our bodies are moving as one in the middle of his kitchen that looks like it could be shot for a magazine. Something about being in his home is so sexy to me, more about knowing him that having him inside of me. He’s opening up and that actually feels good in a physical realm.

"Don’t stop," I plead, my body racing, but his slow pace ensures I’ll have a satisfying orgasm, even if it is more work to achieve.

"I’ll give you whatever you want, baby," he groans, his lips against my ear as he pumps me full, his hips are surging forward slightly faster.

"Yes! Right there!" I moan as he bends forward slightly. Holding me flush against him, and the angle makes his tip hit my vaginal wall, which feels nothing short of incredible.

"Ungh! Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum again," he growls like he doesn’t want to.

Sometimes he likes to only please me, and I imagine after my elevator performance, he wants this to be one of those times, but we can’t help how attracted we are to each other. Both of us are just insatiable in our lust, but I’d rather it be bother of us than me alone, the solo addict. Being able to make him lose control rocks me to my core, and I know an orgasm is soon to follow as my abs tense and my heart rate quickens.

"Oh, God! Thomas! Baby!" I wrap my arms tightly around his neck so that I’m as close to him as possible, bracing for the inevitable shatter of my control.

"Yeah, baby…" He groans, holding me delicately like I’m his prized possession.

Holding me lower, he increases his base, surging forward fast, and I feel an explosion within me as he taps a g-spot deliciously, my mouth watering as my body rages. God, he knows me so well and works his body to give me everything I need, everything I love.

Everything about the way he holds me just surges emotions through me, his arms wrapped around holding me, and his hands cradling my head. I’ve never felt safer than I do in his arms, even when I’m parallel to the ground, bouncing on his manhood as I lose control of my senses.

"That’s it, baby… Don’t fight it," he whispers in my ear, his voice tight and curt. I know he’s holding his own release back, but I can’t even be bothered to edge him forward.

Seduction is long gone; I’m losing it, unable to remain sexy as my face contorts, my internal collapse inevitable. Taking a deep breath, I relax and submit to Thomas, my body going a bit limp, although I stay wrapped around him. He strokes me long and hard, but it’s sensual and slow, romantic even.

"Oh, baby! Yes! Thomas!" I cry as I tip toe on the line or ecstasy.

"Cum for me, baby," He groans in my ear, his voice soft and strained.

"Yes! Yes!" I cry as he pumps me fast.

"Now! Nicole!" He growls and it is my undoing, as I roll over the edge, my muscles clenching around him, squeezing his shaft as the pleasure pours from inside.

"Good girl," he whispers before kissing my ear gently and standing up, so I’m no longer horizontal.

The blood rushes from my head and I feel lightheaded as he holds me tightly, his thrusts now slow and short, allowing my body to go ease back into mindfulness. God, he’s so good at this.

"You didn’t cum," I frown once my body relaxes and Thomas shakes his head and smirks before biting my lower lip between his front teeth. We both usually climax every time we have sex, and I feel a pang of guilt or failure in the pit of my stomach.

"I didn’t want to, baby," he assures me, as if he can read my mind, but that doesn’t relieve me.

"Why not?" I snap, a little more sassy than I intended. Thomas doesn’t seem affected, amused maybe, but definitely not worried about my attitude.

"Calm down," he whispers on my lips, his mouth soft and wet.

"I don’t like when you don’t… You know," I say bashfully and he smiles at my modesty.

"I’m still inside you, Nicole, you can’t play innocent," he smirks before kissing me briskly.

With my hands in his hair, I stare into his eyes. These moments used to make me a little uncomfortable, it’s just so intimate, like we’re looking into each other’s souls. Immediately after an orgasm, it’s pretty intense. Moving closer to him, I rub our noses together in an Eskimo kiss and Thomas presses his lips to mine. The kiss goes from gentle to urgent swiftly as our tongues dance together, his teeth intentionally grazing me as his length hardens inside of me. I can feel him growing as his hands fall to my hips, his eyes turning dark right before me.

"Did you have plans for this?" I ask, squeezing his manhood with my muscles and his fast smile turns into a throaty chuckle.

"I had some ideas," he begins.

"Well, I have some plans too," I grip his neck to pull myself up.

"Oh, yeah?" He smiles.

"Yep," I lower myself on him before lifting again, watching him bite his lip in satisfaction.

"What do you want, baby?" He’s whispering in that seductive tone of sex that makes me melt inside.

"I want you to ravish me," I whisper, our lips so close I can feel the breath escape him.

"Yeah?" His hands grip my ass roughly.

"Yeah," I whisper.

"And then what?" He tugs at my bottom lip with his front teeth.

"And then, right when you start losing yourself. When your balls draw up and your abs tense," I reach down to run my nails along his defined abdomen, scratching so hard he grits his teeth.

"Then I want you to stop." I say, his eyebrows rising in shock, I feel him grow even harder.

"Stop?" He asks in shock.

"Yep," I answer, lifting and lowering myself again.

"And then what?" He grips my hair in his hands, moving his lips to my neck; gently sprinkling kisses on my skin as I squirm, lifting my shoulders, his soft lips tickling me.

"Then I want you to ravish me again," I answer, and his hands drop to my ass, squeezing me again, but this time he lifts me up and harshly slams me into his cock. The fullness is so abrupt and the aggressiveness so unexpected that the wind catches in my throat.

"And then?" He tilts his head, his hands still gripping my ass.

"Stop." I say, looking directly into his eyes. His hunger is growing as quickly as his erection, but he’s trying his best to stay in control.

"And how long do you want to torture me with this magic between your legs?" he asks.

"Until you can’t take it anymore… Until you can’t stop yourself, and you explode inside of me," I press our lips together, sliding my tongue into his mouth. He moans on my tongue and this time I swallow his pleasure.

With my legs wrapped tightly around his waist, he begins walking, and I pull away from our deep kiss, looking around in confusion. Thomas is serious, his mouth clenched and his eyes focused as he stalks through the kitchen.

"Where are we going?" I scrunch my nose in confusion.

"To fuck you. That’s what you want, right?" He asks while continuing to walk through his immaculate apartment.

"That’s exactly what I want. But where are you taking me?" I repeat.

"Don’t tell me I have to stand while following all your rules," he smirks and I do the only thing I can do, lean in to kiss him with every drop of passion in my body.

After what feels like minutes he arrives in the living room we passed on our way to the kitchen earlier, and he lowers me onto the sofa, the leather feels cool and soft on my naked back. Looking down at me, I can tell he’s eager, hungry to begin, so I wrap my legs and arms tightly around him, silently assuring him I’m ready.

Without warning, he pumps me hard and fast, I shriek in delight and we share a flash of a smile together before he slides out of me and slams right back in. We each moan, our faces, close and our eyes locked as he moves in a fast and rough style that couldn’t really be described as a rhythm, it’s a pounding.

Doing just as I told him, he drives into me with everything he’s got, his body hovered on the sofa above me, and I squeeze him with my muscles while he fucks me so hard it almost hurts, but the pleasure outweighs the pain.

"This what you want?" He grunts, his words coordinating with his thrusts, as I bounce, my breasts squished against his chest. Every plunge is so hard, so animalistic, that my ass shakes violently when our bodies collide.

This was supposed to be torture for him, but my body didn’t get the memo, because it’s climbing to its own release, and I have no plans of stopping myself. The waves build and I lift myself to meet him at the thrust, our bodies working against each other, making the vibrations even stronger.

"Fuck!" He bites out, and I keep going, just as he does, each of us moaning and groaning as it gets better with every movement.

My pussy is creaming, clenching and crying out for him, and my hand go into his hair, tugging at his dark strands. Lowering his face to my neck, he drives faster, his hips beginning to buck in the way they do when he focuses on his own pleasure, and it turns me on, my climax within strokes.

"Thomas! Yes, baby! Yes!" I scream, ready to fall over the edge.

"This what you want?" He growls.

"Yes! Fuck me, baby!" I yell back, my release within seconds.

And then he slams into me, stilling as his nose presses into my neck. I’m just about to ask what’s wrong when I realize he too was ready to explode, so according to my rules, he’s stopped himself. After a brief pause, I imagine for him to regain his composure, he begins rocking slowly into me, my waves still present, but much less severe.

"Yes, baby! Just like that," I moan when he begins to speed up, his hands gripping my hair to pull my head back so he can look down at my face.

"You’re fucking beautiful," he whispers, so low I barely hear him, but I can’t focus on his romantic compliments right now, my orgasm is trying to run away and I want it. I need it. I’m a slave to that pleasure.

"Fuck me, Thomas!" I yell and without hesitation he slams into me, sliding out quickly only to re-submerge in my wetness, a loud splashing sound loud and clear in the silence of his grand living room.

"Oh, fuck, baby!" He growls, one of his hands falls to my hip, holding me in place so he can fuck me how he wants. It’s so possessive, I just love whenever he grips me and focuses on his own desires when he’s inside of me.

"Yes! Give it to me, baby!" I try to sound aggressive, but my emotions get the best of me, my voice cracking and trembling as the waves of my orgasm threaten to tear me apart.

"It’s yours, Nicole! Fuck!" He growls, and my muscles tense, his words spurring me on.

"Oh, baby!" I yell, and he pounds my tight pussy, hard and fast, again and again.

Leaning down, I dig my teeth in his neck and he instantly stills inside of me, again pushed to his limit. I can feel him panting against my neck as I too struggle to catch my breath. This is the most intense and aggressive we’ve ever been. It’s beyond erotic, but of course he makes it sensual as well.

Gripping his neck, I lift myself, sliding off of his length, coated in my cream, and then slowly lower myself, sliding into him. He doesn’t move, his face buried in my neck, his breathing still fast and out of control. I know he’s not ready to start back up, but now I’m being selfish, my body hungry for him.

Lifting his head, Thomas looks down at me as his hips finally begin rocking, and not a second too soon. The vibrations are already on edge, I know it won’t take long for me, and from the look on his face, I think he’s fighting his own climax.

His jaw is so defined, as he clenches his teeth, glaring at me as I run my nails across his chest, watching his eyes cloud over before his eyelids slowly close, his pace increasing. My moans are loud and long as he slams into me, grunting so aggressively I feel myself losing control.

"Baby! Oh, Thomas, baby!" I cry, the waves racking through me.

"Oh, fuck! Baby, I can’t stop," he growls, his hips rocking into me as he lifts and falls into my sex.

"Don’t stop! Oh, baby!" I moan, wrapping my arms and legs tightly around him, pulling into me with every thrust.

"Yeah, baby! Ungh!" he growls, his face now in my neck.

Tugging at my earlobe, I lose it, screaming his name as I fall into a climactic ecstasy, my body recklessly surging toward him, my greedy pussy begging for more pounding. To my surprise, Thomas doesn’t stop, or even slow. Instead, his body rages faster and stronger as my weak limbs struggle to hold onto his flexed muscles.

"Oh, fuck! Nicole! Baby!" He growls, and I tug at his ear, the sound that falls from his lips makes my sex clench as the aftershocks of my orgasm rock through me.

"Give it to me, baby! I want to feel you!" I yell, tugging at his hair.

"Nicole! Baby! Fuck! It’s yours!" He growls, his hands holding my hips so I can’t even move to meet him as he plunges into me.

"Yes! Baby! Ahh, Thomas," I’m moaning now, my lips on his neck as I rub my nose against his skin.

"Fuck! Fuck! I can’t…" He fades out, his voice turning to a growl as he punishes my pussy with reckless thrusts.

After a few more harsh pumps, his pace slows and I feel his cock twitch and spasm, knowing he’s finally let loose, but he doesn’t stop. Rocking into me slowly, he roars so loudly it shocks me, as he releases inside of me. I’ve never felt him this intense, or heard him make such noises. It’s beyond sexy and satisfying, and then he finally slows to a still.

Wrapping my limbs tightly, around him, I rub my hand over his back as he holds me tightly, his face still pressed tightly against my neck. We’re both panting and drenched in sweat, our bodies folding together like they were made for each other.

"What are you doing to me?" He finally mutters, lifting so we’re face to face.

"I’m trying to drive you as crazy as you drive me," I smirk, leaning up to offer my lips, but Thomas doesn’t move, instead he just stares at me with an emotion I can’t read clouding his eyes. There’s no more lust, just this look of awe and a shadow of a smirk, and then he leans down and presses his lips against mine softly.

"You’re definitely driving me crazy, Nicole," he says softly, using my name like he does whenever he’s serious about something.

"Welcome to the club." I smile, leaning up to kiss him once more before he collapses between my legs, his body obviously exhausted and slippery with a blend of our sweat. With our bodies still connected, our limbs intertwined, we hold each other until our breathing syncs and sleep sweeps over us.