He holds me against his chest so tight I can feel his heart beating into mine.

Captured. Protected. Safe.

I can’t fight this anymore. My muscles relax in his embrace and it feels so good. I sob against his chest, this time in release. I want this. I want him.

“That’s it.” Enveloping me in his strong arms, he caresses my back, pressing me closer to him. My large breasts are pushed against his hard chest, my legs to the side. All I can think about is how good he smells, how hot he feels. I want his shirt off, no barrier between us.

His lips are strong and soft like velvet as he kisses me for the first time. I hold my breath, shocked at the feel, but then my lips part on instinct, my breath returning as I ease in, his tongue searching, stroking. He holds me with strong hands, tipping me back, devouring me, his lips like a drug I crave at the first taste. He drinks me in, burying his hands in my hair, cupping the back of my head and crushing me to him.

Tentative, I explore back, shy and unsure but wanting to learn. He groans into my mouth, a thirsty man finally at an oasis. He brings his hand to my throat, stroking, holding, and it stirs something in me. I need more. I need his fierce possession, need him to erase all thought from my mind. No more hesitation, confusion or self-doubt. I need him.

He brings his hands down on my bare thighs. I part my legs, eager to give him access. He cups my pussy and scoops my wetness on his fingers. I moan into his mouth. At first I was embarrassed, humiliated under his hand, but that’s all gone now. In its wake, all I feel is wanton need. I want him to know what he does to me, how he drives me crazy.

Bringing his fingers to my face, he shows me my own arousal, my juices dripping from his hand. “You see how wet you are?” My eyes widen. I’ve never seen myself like that.

Then he brings his thick fingers up to my lips. “Suck it,” he commands in a guttural voice. “Lick my fingers. Taste how much you like my spanking.”

It shouldn’t turn me on, but the time for reasoned responses is over. Looking up with trust and desire in my eyes, I part my lips and suck his fingers like he demands. I moan, my eyelids fluttering closed at my own taste, the evidence of my desire for him, sweet and sticky, coating his fingers.

“That’s it. Clean my fingers off.”

I open my eyes again and meet his as I take his big index finger into my mouth. Sucking it in deep, I swirl my tongue around it like it’s his cock. I wish it were.

I don’t even recognize myself. Where’s the girl who hid from men, who feared any would show any interest or ask her on a date? She’s left the building. In her place, here I am, getting so wet from Knox making me suck his fingers, fantasizing that it’s his huge, hard cock. After holding back and buttoning down my whole life, it’s like a tidal wave has crashed over me and I can’t stop myself.

With a grunt, he removes his fingers. He tears the T-shirt up and over my head, throwing it to the floor. Holding me apart from him, he studies my breasts, panting like a beast.

Just when I’d thought I’d become a wanton sex goddess, shyness overtakes me once again. I’ve never let a man see me naked before. I bring my hands up to hide myself.

He growls and pulls my hands down. “Never cover yourself in front of me.” I tremble and nod, feeling tears well again in my eyes. I don’t understand what’s happening between us. I feel like I’m standing on slippery, shifting sand, no balance, no sense of the rules.

But he’s there to catch me. With his large, warm hands on my waist, his eyes glaze as he takes me in. “So beautiful. So fucking perfect.” His first touch to my breasts is almost reverent, cupping them, holding them in his palms. My breasts are large, but so is he. It’s almost as if we were made for each other.

He swipes his thumbs along the surface, circling my nipples. I suck in my breath, so bare before him, nowhere to hide. He can see my response to him as my nipples stiffen and pucker at his touch.

“Do you know how gorgeous you are?” He looks into my eyes and I see how much he means it. It nearly takes my breath away. I can’t speak, so I just shake my head no. How can I tell this man I’ve spent years hiding, covering myself up, avoiding attention? I’d almost grown to resent my body, its curves drawing unwanted attention, exposing me, making me vulnerable.

Now I’ve never been more vulnerable, sitting completely naked on his giant lap. But I forget to panic as he lowers his head to my breasts. I have to close my eyes it feels so good. He swirls his tongue, his lips kissing, teasing, his breath feathering over my sensitive skin. He’s worshipping at the altar of my breasts and I never want him to stop. I knead my fingers into his shoulder, down at his thigh, sinking into him, wanting to ask for more, but I’m still too shy. I’ve been desperate to cum for days now and he’s the one who can give that to me the way I need.

Swift, as if I weigh nothing, he shifts me so I’m sitting facing him. With my legs straddling his broad, thick thighs, I’m spread open. He cups his hand around my ass and brings me closer, but not right up against him. It’s as if he can’t stop looking at me, feasting on the sight of my bare flesh.

“Olivia.” The way he says my name is a caress, and a shiver travels down my spine. Nervous energy mingles with desperate need coursing through my system, and I don’t know what to do with my hands. I’m twisting them, looking away, fidgeting under his scrutiny.

Until he captures my wrists behind my back. I look up at him in surprise. He pins me there, but he’s still large enough that he can lean back and watch my reactions. He looks down at my pussy, glistening and wet. Moving his thighs further apart, he stretches me open even more.

“What are you doing?” I pant, nervous and trapped, my wrists in his rough, firm grasp behind my back.

“Giving you what you need.” He brings his hand to my breast and holds it as he feasts on it again, sucking, licking, nipping at my tender skin.

“What do I need?” I ask, breathy and unsure.

“You were doing it to yourself when I walked in on you.” He starts to trail his hand down me, along my stomach, across my hips. I squirm, anxious about where he’s headed and impatient at the same time. “Don’t you know, little one, you don’t need to do that yourself. I’ll take care of you. I’ll take care of everything you need.”

He holds me in place and sinks a finger into my slick pussy.

“Knox!” Even one finger stretches me, makes me feel full. The rough callous on the pad of his finger drives me crazy, brushing against my clit. I rock against him, bucking to get more friction, my breasts jiggling with effort.

“So tight, Olivia,” he hisses, bringing a second finger down. “I’m going to have to stretch you.” He brings another finger to my entrance and I twist, worried it will hurt. His grip tightens on my wrists. “Take what I give you, baby.” It’s both a stern warning and loving advice. “I’m going to make you feel so good.”

I cry out as he pushes his two thick digits into me, forcing them deep up inside where no man has touched me before. It feels foreign and pinches for a minute, but then he pulls out to thrust again and this time a groan comes from my throat.

He moves slowly, making me ride his fingers he’s moving so slow. I’m panting and mewling, wanting to beg him to move faster, go straight for my clit like the other morning. I know he can make me cum in seconds, but he’s prolonging it, making me suffer through it building, and building more.

I feel feverish, a trail of sweat forming between my breasts as he slowly fucks me with two fingers. He’s watching where we join, not taking his eyes off for a second. I look down and can’t believe how slick his fingers are, how large they are before they disappear inside me entirely. His mouth down to my erect nipple, he flicks his tongue out, then bites me lightly. I scream, my mouth in an O, my heart racing. But he still doesn’t move any faster.

“You can’t pretend you’re asleep this time.” He relishes my response, writhing on his lap, glistening with sweat. I know he’s calling me out and I should feel embarrassed, should maybe form a sentence or two to protest. But I can’t string together coherent thought right now. He’s got me too close to orgasm.

He tightens his grip on my wrists and it makes me moan, reminding me he has me trapped, holding me exactly at the right angle where he wants me. He’s arching my back slightly, making me force my tits out to him. I’ve always tried to hide my breasts, tamping them down, cloaking them. Now they’re quivering and fully exposed to his wicked tongue.

The size of the bulge in his crotch is insanely huge. I can’t stop looking down at it, wondering how it would look if he unzipped his jeans. How big is he? How thick? He’s so close to my dripping pussy. If two fingers fill me up, what would his cock do to me? Could I even take him?

He fucks me faster, drawing me closer, swiping my clit, circling, making me crazy. “Now that I know how much you need this,” he grunts, “Nothing’s going to stop me from taking care of my woman.”

I moan, losing control, starting to buck shamelessly into his fingers.

“Let me see you cum, Olivia.” He brings his thumb to my clit, grazing it in rhythm with his other two fingers. I feel myself clench. It’s so intimate, so revealing, him holding me like that and watching it all. I want to show him everything. “Cum on my fingers. Show me how good I make you feel.”

“Ugh, yes!” I’m a tumble of words, incoherent as my orgasm washes over me. My buttocks clench, fists tight, eyes closed but mouth wide open with my scream of pure pleasure.

“Cum for me. Just like that.”

Desperate, I rock on his fingers, letting him work every last drop from me until, dazed, I collapse against his chest. He releases my wrists and rubs my arms, comforting me with his touch. “You did so good, baby. So beautiful.”

His words make me flush with pleasure. I love pleasing him, on a deep, instinctive level. I nearly blacked out with that orgasm, and feel like I can’t even open my eyes again yet. “I can’t believe what you do to me.”

His chest rumbles with satisfaction, and I realize he’s never moved his fingers from my pussy. He keeps them inside me, as if that’s where they’ll live now. As if my pussy belongs to him.

“I have to know, has anyone ever done that to you before?” There’s tension running through his body, his voice stern and displeased at the thought.

“No,” I respond immediately, eager to let him know he’s the only one. No man has ever made me feel anything like that.

“Good.” He exhales, stroking my hair, pressing me to his chest. His two fingers in my sex begin to move again, gently, leisurely. Even as the last quiver of pleasure subsides, I can feel new ones begin under his touch. “Do you know how much I’m going to play with this pussy?”

I bury my head in his chest, hiding my smile. I want him to do it a lot, but I’m still not comfortable that I feel that way. My body has given in to my basest urges, but my brain is still trying to warn me to be sensible.

He ducks his head, kissing my ear, starting to work in a rhythm yet again, moving so slick and warm over my sensitive pussy. In a whisper, he assures me, “I’m never going to stop.”