I closed my eyes, and the closer he leaned in, I anticipated the feel of those firm, full lips against mine. But as the seconds ticked by and I still just felt his frantic breathing against my skin, only then did I open my eyes. He was staring at my mouth, his jaw set hard, this mask of pure, unadulterated lust coming from him so strong I actually sucked in a startled breath. He looked like... he was about to snap.
“Wilder,” I whispered, not sure what I was going to say, but that lone word spilling from me seemed to be the match that lit this situation on fire.
In the next moment, he groaned, cursed something under his breath, then slammed his mouth down on mine. It was sudden and intense, his lips on mine, his tongue stroking the seam until I opened and let him in. The fingers at the back of my neck dug in almost painfully, but I found I loved it, yearned for more.
“Touch me,” he said in this pleading, guttural tone, breathless as he pulled back only an inch.
I had my arms around his shoulders, bringing myself closer to him. He groaned again, and before I knew what was happening, he had me hauled over him, so I now straddled his lap.
He still had his hand on the back of my neck and placed his other one at the small of my back, the slight pressure enough to tell me he wouldn’t let me move away. And as he kissed me, stroked his tongue over mine, made these purely male sounds in the back of his throat like this was the best thing he’d ever experienced, I felt my control slipping as well.
I rested fully on his lap, felt the impossibly hard length of his erection pressing against his pants, digging into the very intimate, sensitive part of me. Wilder was big in all ways, his body honed to male perfection, hard in the way a man was who worked out and stayed healthy. And what he sported between his thighs was no different. Despite the clothing separating us, I could feel he was long and thick.
He slid his hand up the center up my back, over my hip, along my side, and I hoped like hell he’d twist his hand so he could cup my breast. The mound ached for his heavy palm, squeezing my flesh, the weight tantalizing to my sensitive nipple. God, he was so close, right at the underside of it, stopped as if he wanted to do what I achingly needed him to.
Please. Touch me. More.
He devoured my mouth.
Our heads were tilted, our tongues dueling, yet I let him take supremacy. I let Wilder lead the way, because knowing he had the control turned me on like nothing else. I found myself griping his shoulders forcefully, digging my nails into his skin, hearing him groan from the act. I pressed my pussy down on his hardness more, his grunt spurring me on.
Something inside me started to unravel, and as I slid my hands over his shoulders, feeling his muscles tense, jump under his warm, smooth flesh, all I wanted to do was throw caution to the wind and not think about anything or anyone but seeking out the pleasure that only Wilder had ever brought out of me.
I pressed my lower body down on his hardness, felt the rigid outline of his erection, that steel pipe that I knew would hurt so good if he were shoved between my thighs, thrusting all those inches in and out of me. Those dirty images filled my head, and I found myself rocking back-and-forth against him, the material of our clothing causing this delicious friction to build within me. My breathing was frantic as we continued to kiss, tongues dueling, both of us trying to reign supreme in that moment. He had his hands on my waist, his fingers digging into my flesh. And then he started helping me, moving me back-and-forth over him a little harder, a little faster. The pleasure was unlike anything I’d ever felt, this pressure building inside me, starting at the base of my spine and moving outward.
I moaned, groaned, mewled, and cried out softly, unable to keep the desire-laced sounds spilling from me. I was panting, trying to suck in air but not wanting to break away from the erotic torture of Wilder’s mouth.
He slid his hands over my waist, along my sides, and gripped each side of my neck, using his thumbs to tilt my head back so he could fully devour me. And he did so completely, so fully, that I felt myself break away into a million little pieces.
I came so hard it had stars dancing behind my closed lids, colors and flashes that had me leaving reality and experiencing something so profound it didn’t seem real.
And all the while, he kept rocking me back and forth on him, over and over again, drawing out my pleasure so I was begging for him to stop, to ease the sensitivity… to keep going.
There was no hope in putting myself back together. I didn’t even want to.
I felt that pleasure crest again, peak higher, and as I tumbled over the edge, all I thought, felt, smelled, was Wilder. He had his hands on either side of my face now, tilting my head fully to the side so he could fuck my mouth, thrusting his tongue in and out between my lips as I rode out my orgasm. The rough sounds coming from him made my desire grow higher, had this indescribable sensation filling me.
As my climax started to dim, I reached between us, trying to push down his sweats, to feel his length and hardness in my hand. I was frantic, needing Wilder like I needed to eat and breathe and sleep.
He was gasping for air in a purely masculine way, gruff sounds mixing with his respirations to make this auditory orgasm surround us.
But he stopped kissing me, broke way, and I was left feeling empty and cold, chills racing over my body. I clutched at him, trying to bring him closer, needing his mouth on mine again. I wanted more than that and was nearly so far gone I was going to beg him to fuck me.
“Baby,” he groaned, placing his hands on top of mine that were right on the drawstring of his sweats.
“You don’t want this?” I managed to wheeze out. I opened my eyes, my vision blurry from the pleasure. My face felt flushed, my lips swollen. He groaned and closed his eyes for a second, lifting his hips so a gasp spilled for me when I felt how hard he still was.
“Oh, I want this. I really fucking want this.”
“Then don’t stop,” I whispered. I hadn’t been able to stop myself, acting like this wild animal fiending for him.
He groaned again as if in pain. “If we don’t stop now, I won’t be able to at all, because I’m so far gone, baby.” He panted harshly. “And I don’t want to do this with a houseful of people, when both of us experience this together for the first time.” We stared into each other’s eyes, and all I wanted to do was argue.
But what he said made perfect sense. I wanted Wilder so desperately I could barely think, let alone breathe, but he was right. I didn’t want to rush this, even though I felt like I’d been waiting an eternity to feel this with someone.
He rested his forehead against mine, and we breathed in the same tempo. “Can I just… hold you?”
I could have laughed at that, simply because I would have let him do more to me than just hold me. I smiled before nodding.
He leaned in and kissed me softly, and then he was pulling me down on the bed, my back to his chest, his big, muscular arm draped over my side as he kept me to him.
I moved my hand to place it over his much bigger one, and then we twined our fingers together. In this moment, despite the fact that we had our clothing on, even though he was so hard, his cock digging into my back, my pussy wet, and my panties soaked, because he’d gotten me off, this moment right here was so much more intimate than if we had sex.
And I didn’t know if that should scare me more than anything else. But right now, I wasn’t going to think of that.