“I like it when you do that,” I whisper.
“I know.”
He presses against me, and the feel of him is extraordinary. Even while standing, I love the pressure and weight of him. He runs his hands from my neck down to my br**sts, then he turns me around and I’m looking at the mirror. He kneels behind me, so I can’t see him. I tremble with anticipation, then I feel his breath along my calf, and he’s kissing his way up my leg, stopping to trace his tongue along the back of my knee in such a delicious way that sparks of heat shoot across my body. Now, he’s bunching up the fabric of my dress at my waist and he kisses my thigh. He reaches my ass, and I cry out because everything he does feels so incredible, especially as he runs the tip of his tongue along one cheek, then flicks his tongue against my lace panties. I bow my back, giving him better access for anything and everything.
“Whatever you’re doing feels amazing,” I say in between broken breaths.
“Good. That’s how it should feel.” Then he stands, moves his hands to my hips, and yanks me against him. I start to circle my h*ps without even being aware of it. I want him so badly, and he knows it. He knows what he does to me, and he enjoys it as he hooks his arm between my legs, his fingers touching me through my panties. I shudder, and desire spreads through my whole body, as if every cell is comprised solely of the dark craving to be touched by him.
“Look at yourself,” he says, grabbing my wrists and pinning them above my head. I look at my reflection. My face is flush, and my hair is wild, and my lips have that just-been-kissed look.
“I look like I’ve just been f**ked,” I say.
“No. That’s how you’ll look later tonight when this damn event is over, and I can take you out of here and finally have you the way I want,” he says, and an image of later, of him inside me flashes by, making me hotter. Then he lowers his voice, “and the way you want too.”
“I do. I do want that,” I say, breathless with my need for him.
“Now press your hands against the mirror because I want us both to watch you as you come,” he tells me, and I do. Then, I hear him unzip his pants, and soon I can feel him press his erection against my backside. God, he feels amazing, and reflexively I push back, trying desperately to lure him in for more contact. “Please,” I whimper.
“Jill,” he says, tsk, tsking me. “I promise you, there will be plenty of time for that. But I’ll give you an idea.”
Then, maybe just to tease me, he slides his c**k between my legs, and I nearly scream. It feels so good to have him against me, even for one brief moment, and I am absolutely aching to filled up by him. But all he gives me is that—a taste, before he returns to that tantalizing way of holding me tight, his hard length against me, taunting me with what I want.
“Oh, Jill. The things I’m going to do to you,” he says, as if he’s simply musing on the topic.
“What are you going to do to me?”
Holding my wrists firmly in place, he dips his other hand inside my panties, and rubs his finger in dizzying circles against me.
“I’m going to spread you out on my bed and trail my tongue between your legs, and just when you reach down to grab my hair, I’ll flip you over on your front, and then bring your ass up in the air, and I’m going to go down on you in that position.”
No one has ever gone down on me like that. No one has ever talked to me this way. Hell, no one has touched me this way. But I want so badly to do all these things with him. Only with him. I want to feel his talented tongue swirling against me. I want to take him in my mouth and taste him when he comes. I want to wrap my hands around him again and feel how hard he is. My mind is racing with images of all we will do, and when he rubs his finger against me, it’s sweet agony. I am burning all over him, my entire body a delicious ache.
“And you’re going to squirm and raise your ass for me, as I run my tongue across all this f**king fantastic wetness,” he says and takes his time tracing lazy circles across my clit, until all of a sudden, he slides his finger hard inside me, crooking it, and reaching that spot where he starts to send me over the edge. “And you’ll grab the pillows hard in your hands, and push yourself back into me.”
“Oh God. I can’t wait much longer.”
“It won’t be much longer,” he says. “Now open your eyes, and watch in the mirror as I make you come.”
I do as he says and my hair is a wanton tumble, my shoulders are rising and falling, and Davis looks like he wants to consume me.
“Do you know what else I want to do to you?”
“What else do you want to do?” I ask him in the mirror, his reflection wild as he stares at me.
“I want to be underneath you and pull you on top of me so I can taste you that way. Would you like that? Would you like to be on top of me, f**king my face?”
I can’t form words any more. All I can manage is a loud moan. He strokes me harder, pushing me closer to the release, and all the while, he keeps whispering, a low, dirty growl that sends new shivers pulsating through me, as I race to the edge. “The next time you come, I’m going to be inside you,” he breathes, his strong arm locking me in place, his steel length pressed hard against my back. “Filling you up, over and over, until you can’t take any more. I’m going to f**k you so deep and slow, that all of New York City will hear you call my name when you come undone.”
That’s all it takes. Those words. Those dirty, sexy words he whispers to me, for me, about me, and I am lost in this haze of desire he’s unleashed in my body, as an orgasm careens through me, and I shudder violently against his hand. I’m about to scream, when he clasps his hand over my mouth to muffle my sounds.
“You feel that?” He demands as the waves of pleasure slowly start to fade away. I manage a weak nod, because I am awash in the fog.
“This is only the beginning, Jill.”
Then he lets go of my wrists and I fall into his arms. He catches me, spins me so I’m facing him, then kisses me softly on the forehead. “Do you have any idea how much I love making you come?”
“I think I have a clue,” I say, with a happy, woozy smile.
“It is my favorite thing in the world. I love how fearless you are. I love how much you want it. I love the way you let go when I touch you,” he says, returning to a tender voice, his lover’s voice that melts me even more for him.
“You should know by now I love everything about the way you touch me,” I say, as I loop my arms around him.