“Do you like what you see?” she asks coyly, her voice teasing.
Nodding, I say, “Touch yourself.”
Her eyes blink wide and her lips part, but she doesn’t say anything. Good. I think I shocked her. It’s fun, pushing her boundaries. I can tell she doesn’t do this sort of thing, and I like that maybe I’m the first to encourage her. Sex should be fun. Sex should be about experimenting and testing your limits.
I didn’t realize it could be so much fun with the same woman, though. We haven’t even had actual sex yet, and I’m enjoying the hell out of myself.
And Eleanor.
Licking her lips—damn it, she does that way too much—she grabs her breasts in her hands and holds them together, her palms sliding over her nipples.
“Pinch your nipples,” I murmur, my dick leaping in response. This girl revs me up like no other. “Rub them.”
She does as I ask, her eyes falling closed, her mouth falling open. Her breathing becomes accelerated and so does mine.
Watching Eleanor get herself off is pretty fucking hot.
“Does that feel good?” I ask.
“Yes.” Her voice is a breathy whisper, like a shot to my already straining cock.
“Touch your pussy,” I urge.
Her hands fall away from her chest and she slides one down her belly, pausing just above her scant pubic hair. Glancing back, she plants her left hand on the mattress behind her, just on the other side of my thigh, and rests her right hand directly over her mound, then spreads her fingers wide.
The way she’s positioned, she’s giving me quite the view. I can see everything. Her legs are spread, and all that hot pink flesh is on display, just for me. Her fingers rest right at the top of her slit, like a tease, and a low growl escapes me.
She smiles, as if she knows what she’s doing to me, and then those fingers are gliding over her folds, rubbing over her clit. I watch with rapt fascination, my gaze never leaving her busy hand, noting how worked up she’s getting herself. She’s panting. Whimpering. Rubbing harder. Faster. I’m learning all of her tricks, seeing exactly how she likes it, and when I can feel her entire body start to tremble, I bark out, “Stop.”
Eleanor goes still. Her eyes pop open to meet mine. “I’m so close.”
“I know.” I reach for her waist and shift her back at the same time I move forward, until she’s lying sprawled at the end of the bed and I’m on top of her. “When you come, I want to be inside you.”
Her eyes flare with heat at my words. She likes that. She likes it a lot. “Please tell me you brought condoms.”
“An entire box,” I reassure her with a smile. “Sitting on the table over there.” I wave a hand at the bedside table.
“Thank God,” she says, her shaky voice full of relief. She lifts her torso beneath me, trying to rub herself against my dick, I assume. The sheet is gone. There are no barriers between us now. “I want you,” she admits.
“I know, baby,” I tell her, feeling like a smug ass, but hell. Let’s be real now.
It’s pretty damn obvious she wants me. And it’s extremely obvious that I want her too.
We need to take our time, though. She’s leaving tomorrow. She has friends here she needs to spend time with. Tonight is probably my final shot before she’s gone.
I have to make it last. Make it good.
Make it so she never forgets me.
I lean down and kiss her. Run my lips down the length of her neck. Lick and kiss her breasts. Suck and tongue her nipples. Rain kisses all over her curved, quivering belly. Press sucking kisses on the inside of her quaking thighs.
Doing my best to drive her out of her ever-lovin’ mind.
I go down on her because I can’t resist that delicious spot between her legs. She is so damn wet, coating my face in her juices, her body primed and ready for me. I work her into such a frenzy, she’s begging for it, saying my name, thrashing about like she can’t control herself.
Yet I don’t give her what she wants. I don’t want her to come yet.
Not like this.
“You’re torturing me,” she whimpers, and when I finally thrust my face in hers, she kisses me like she’s dying, not minding the fact that my mouth tastes like her. “Please, Mitch.”
She’s asking nicely, so I decide to give in to her.
“Hold on,” I whisper, breaking away from her hold so I can grab the box of condoms. I open the box and pull one out, tearing the wrapper off and rising up on my knees to roll the rubber on. My dick hurts, it’s so ready to get down to business. I’m afraid to touch it, for fear I might blow early.
But I manage to get the condom on. Of course.
Eleanor lifts up on her elbows, watching me as I finish taking care of the condom, her eyes wide. “Pretty sure you’re the biggest guy I’ve ever been with.”
I give my cock a quick stroke before I resume my position, hovering above her, her legs spread and ready to receive me. “Really?”
She nods, looking apprehensive. “Hopefully it fits.”
“Oh, it’s gonna fit. Don’t you worry,” I say with confidence, rising up on my knees once more. I grab hold of her hips and pull her in closer, then wrap my fingers around my cock and drag it through her wet folds. She arches her back, her expression one of pure ecstasy as her lips fall open and her eyes close.
“You’re the worst,” she says on a moan, and I can’t help but get off on her sexual agony.
This probably means I’m a sick motherfucker, but I can live with it.
Seventeen
Eleanor
He’s driving me out of my mind.
I’ve never had so much foreplay before in my life. Seriously, he takes me to the brink, only to leave me hanging, gasping for air. Desperate to come. Maybe he’s a sadist. Maybe he’s into BDSM or whatever. Maybe he’s one of those dudes who says, “You can’t come until I say so.”
Huh. I wonder if that kind of thing would turn me on.
Probably.
Right now he’s sitting on his knees between my wide-open thighs, his fingers wrapped firmly around the base of his erection as he rubs just the tip—ha ha—against my folds. My clit. Every little touch makes me twitch, I swear to God, and I’m afraid once he’s finally inside me, I’ll come immediately.
I hope that doesn’t happen. I want to actually enjoy this. Savor it. Not be ready to shove him off me the moment I’m satisfied.
If I say that like I have previous experience, that would be a yes. I do.
Anyway.
“What are you waiting for?” I ask, sounding snappy.
Oops.
“Trying to get you ready,” he says, like he has all the time in the world.
“I’m fairly certain I’m ready,” I retort, feeling like a smartass, but come on. He’s getting off on this.
He smiles, the jerk. The sexy, knows-exactly-what-he’s-doing jerk. “You think?”
The music from downstairs gets louder, and though I can’t necessarily make out the lyrics, the beat is heavy and slow, and I swear it’s making the bed frame rattle. Mitch’s expression grows darker as he rests the head of his cock right at my entrance, poised and ready. His gaze is zeroed in on that very spot and I shift beneath him, trying to get him in.