It reminded her that she hadn’t finished undressing him. Really, all she’d done was flirt and tease his chest. Time to remedy the situation. Her hand left her panties and she went back to his belt. She noticed that the front of his khaki pants had a small wet spot from pre-cum. His cock was already so wet he was leaking through the fabric.
That was . . . kinda sexy.
One hand slid away from his belt and she rubbed the bulge of his erection through the fabric of his pants. “You thinking about The Notebook yet?”
“Christ, no. God, your hands. I love that.” His eyes closed again and his body arched. “I may never think about it again. That movie that cannot be named.”
“Because you don’t want me to stop?”
“Because if you stop, I swear you’ll see a grown man cry.” He bucked his hips again, rubbing himself against her hand.
“I’d hate to see you cry.” Her voice was husky with her own excitement, and she clenched her thighs together as she slid his zipper down slowly. This was exquisite torture. Exquisite . . . and she was having fun. Handcuffs were her new best friend. She pushed aside his slacks, now undone, and revealed the straining bulge of his cock that pushed against his boxer briefs. The soft cotton fabric outlined every detail, right down to the heavy knob of his cock head. She stroked her hand down it again. “Should we do skin or should we do stuff over the clothes?”
“You’re in charge,” he said in a tight voice.
And that was the best answer ever. “I am, aren’t I?” Chelsea considered him for a moment, then moved her fingers to his waistband. “Lift your hips and I’ll slide these down.”
He did, and she tugged the fabric down until his cock sprung free.
And oh, she’d forgotten how big he was, the prominent head mushrooming from the thick girth of him. Curious, she clasped him in her hand and her fingers couldn’t quite meet on the other side. “You’re big.”
“And you’re still torturing me.” His eyes were closed again, as if her touch was too much for him to bear with his eyes open.
Maybe she was. She had to admit, she kind of liked torturing him. Driving him crazy with her touch. Being a tease. She didn’t plan on stopping, though. Not when her own desire was pulsing between her legs for the first time in what felt like a hundred years.
“You should unlock me so I can touch those sweet breasts of yours.”
“Nope,” she said, and leaned in, gripping him, and swiped her tongue over the head of his cock. “You’re mine to play with.”
His breath hissed out from between his teeth as she licked him. “Oh, sweet Jesus, Chelsea.”
“What’s that? Do it again?” She leaned in and gave him another flick of her tongue.
“ Ah. Yeah. Fuck yeah. Just like that.”
Her thighs clenched together again at his excitement. The sharp taste of his pre-cum was on her tongue, and she lapped at him over and over again, trying to keep up with the drops that beaded on the head of his cock. “Should I take you in my mouth, I wonder?” Her voice was a sultry purr.
“If I say yes, does that mean you won’t?” His voice was hoarse.
When she looked up, she noticed that his arms were straining against the handcuffs, the metal digging into his wrists. His eyes were those sexy green slits, though, and she gave him another long, lascivious lick as he watched. His nostrils flared in response, and she watched the muscles in his jaw clench.
“You know what? I’m not even going to ask,” she said lightly. “I’m just going to do what I want.” And she leaned in, her hair spilling over her shoulders, and took the head of him against her lips, then drew him into her mouth.
Sebastian’s long, delicious groan was music to her ears. She pulled him deeper into her mouth, sucking and licking, rubbing her tongue against the underside of his cock. His hips lifted and bucked as she wrapped a hand around the base of his cock and began to pump him in time with the movements of her mouth.
“Fuck, you’re good at that,” he muttered as she worked him. “Can’t wait to get you under me, Chelsea. I’d lick your pussy for hours just as a thank-you for the way you’re working my cock.”
Her hand slid back to her panties again. His words were filthy, but he couldn’t do a thing but talk. She continued to tease and torture him with her mouth, licking and sucking. She loved the feel of his cock. He was so hard his skin was like silk over an iron bar, and the duality between the two was fascinating. She sucked him deep and then dragged him back out of her mouth again.
“Gonna come soon,” he growled. “Come over here and kiss me. And then I want your pussy on my cock. I want to come inside you.”
She nodded and released his cock with a “pop” of her lips that made him groan anew, and then she moved up to kiss him. Her tongue slicked over his, and it felt . . . weird.
She was losing it. Oh, no. She needed to go back to that mindless state. So she moved to slide down him again, to take his cock back in her mouth.
“No, baby, up here,” he said, and jerked hard at the handcuffs. “I want to touch you.”
Chelsea’s breath quickened, and she sat up, feeling threads of panic. His wrists were red and chafed where the cuffs were digging into his skin, and she knew she should release him. But the thought of that made her arousal die a quick death. “I . . . I don’t think I can do this.”
Immediately his expression changed, his body tensing. “Derby? Pillow?”
“Those are my safe words,” she said, a shy smile on her face.