“Coming To America,” I snort. “Nice.”
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to reenact that scene,” she says, squinting with rapt fascination as she runs her hand over my hardon, watching the suds rinse away. “I’m really enjoying this relationship thing.”
“Yeah?” I ask, reaching down and stroking a finger over her cheek. “I’m enjoying you too.”
“Like wow!” She sinks down, now sitting on her heels. “I have a whole man to myself.” She shakes her head as if she can’t believe it. “It’s incredible.”
The innocence of this woman drives me absolutely wild—makes me want to satisfy her in ways she’d never dare to imagine. “Anything else you’d like to try?”
“Can I be on top?” she garbles, wrapping her lips around the tip of my cock and sucking me into the warmth of her mouth.
My hips jerk from the unexpected treat. “You’ve never—?” I rasp, panting as my heart takes off at a frenzied pace.
She gives her head a shake, nearly choking on the effort. Her cheeks cave in and her head bobs as she puts her all into working me with her mouth.
I weave a hand into her hair, steadying myself with the other against the slippery tile. With gentle persuasion, I guide her, syncing our movements. “The night is yours,” I say, grunting when she moans and her lips vibrate like a cock ring around me. “Ahh,” I yank her hair, popping her off my dick. “Fuck, baby. Your mouth.”
She beams up at me, licking my precum off her lips. “It’s my night, remember?”
I nod.
“I want to finish.”
Who am I to argue with that logic?
She curls the fingers of one hand around my shaft, giving a few good strokes before adding her mouth back into the mix. She takes her time, winding her tongue in circles over the engorged tip before taking me all the way to the back of her throat.
“Whitney,” I moan. “Like that, love. Just.” I grind my molars as a rush of heat fills my shaft. “Like. That.”
With a whimper, she picks up speed, pumping the base with her fist. The pressure in my cock builds to impossible heights when she hollows her cheeks, sucking me harder and faster.
“Tell me if it’s too much,” I say as I begin plunging in and out, fucking her mouth.
Whitney is a goddess, meeting me thrust for thrust, never once faltering.
I try to pull out when I feel my impending release, but she grips my ass, telling me without words she wants it.
“Ohhh,” I groan as thick hot come juts out in spurts, shooting right to the back of her throat. She continues sucking, not letting up until she’s swallowed every drop. Only then does she relax and allow my cock to slip from her mouth.
“That was—” I’m truly at a loss for words, sagging against the shower wall.
She smiles, smacking her lips. “Salty?”
I snort. “Get up here.”
With my help she rises to her feet, and I pull her close, kissing her passionately beneath the spray. “It was incredible,” I say, nipping at her lips. “You are incredible.”
She reaches around me to twist the knob on the faucet, shutting off the water. “I’m ready to ride,” she announces, making a giddy-up motion and twirling an invisible lasso.
I sigh, hating that I have to disappoint her. “I’m gonna need at least thirty minutes to round up your ride, cowgirl.”
She deflates with a pout. “Okay…well, wanna watch some TV?”
I shake my head, reaching for the big towels and wrapping one around her before tying the other around my waist. “No, Whitney, I don’t want to watch fucking TV.”
“Then what do you wanna do?” she asks, nibbling her lower lip.
“I have a better idea.”
Her eyes widen as she takes my outstretched hand, following me into the room. “I’m listening.”
“I want to taste you,” I say, tipping her chin and placing a kiss on her lips. “I want to bring you to the brink over and over and over again until you’re screaming so loud every person on this floor knows who’s making you come. I want you desperate and writhing, begging for my cock because you know it’s the only thing that will satisfy the ache.”
She clears her throat, muttering unintelligible sounds.
“Is that a yes?”
“Y—yes,” she mutters, staring up at me with hooded eyes.
“Get in the bed.” I rip her towel off on my way to open the sliding glass doors leading out to the balcony, dropping my own before climbing in to join her. “A little ambiance,” I say as the sky lights up with flashes of gold.
Gripping her thighs in both hands, I pull her toward me. “Relax your legs, love.” I lift her right knee to my lips, peppering soft kisses along her inner thigh until I reach her center.
Her hips jerk toward my face when I trail my nose along her slit. “You smell delicious.”
She cries out my name when I flick my tongue over her swollen bud. Once…twice… “Oh, God,” she cries as she starts to lose control, rolling her hips to the rhythm of my ministrations.
I pull back, not ready for her to find her release just yet.
“Wyatt,” she whines, her hips grinding against me, her tone one of utter frustration.
I grin up at her from between her spread legs. “Foreplay,” I whisper, throwing her earlier justification back at her.
Her lips part, no doubt to offer some witty reply, but I silence her, slipping two fingers inside of her, curling them as I bring my lips to hers. “It’s going to be so fucking good, Whit.”
I feast on her for what feels like days, but is more likely only minutes, working her to the brink over and over without letting her climax.
Until, finally, neither of us can wait another second.
“Wyatt,” she moans, sounding desperate and greedy. “Wyatt, fuck me, please.”
I slide my fingers from her heat and roll to my back, grinning at her all the while. “Mount up, love.” I nod my head toward my dick, which is once again proudly standing at attention.
Whit grabs the foil packet from the top of the nightstand and tears into the wrapper, wasting not a single second before rolling the condom down over my cock, straddling my hips, and impaling herself on my erection.
“Wow,” she muses, a seductive lilt to her voice as she rocks her hips slightly, testing the new position. “This is…different.”
“Good different?” I ask, thrusting my hips upward, encouraging her to move.
“God, yes.” She plants her hands on my chest. “What do I do?”
“Whatever feels good.”
She starts off tentatively swirling her hips, before dropping her weight onto my chest to support herself as she bobs up and down. “It’s so deep,” she moans, still searching for a tempo that works for her.
I reach out, brushing my thumbs over her nipples. Her body reacts on instinct, her head falling back, her pussy tightening.
“Yes,” she moans, arching her back and digging her nails into my thighs.
I lower one hand, applying pressure to her clit, and a switch flips—she’s bucking against me, crying out every time our hips meet.
She’s a mad woman, chasing her release with a violent fervor. I can tell she’s close when her walls squeeze my dick nearly to the point of pain.