“Are you a good girl?” he whispers in your ear; his voice deep and raspy.
He nibbles at your earlobe and you flinch.
“If I was a good girl, I wouldn’t be here with you, would I?”
He chortles; you can’t help but stare at his pronounced Adam’s Apple as it bobs up and down.
“That’s why I chose you,” he tells you as he lays upon the bed; long fingers unbuttoning his shirt; pale skin exposed; you feel a flush in your cheeks.
It’s not your first time, but he makes it seem that way.
“What makes you think you chose me?” you answer; he narrows his dark, almond eyes at you.
Your tongue swipes across your mouth and he bites his lower lip.
The kiss is soft and gentle at first; he closes his eyes as if he were unschooled; impossibly long lashes fluttering; he moans as you deepen the kiss; tongue sliding in forcefully as you take command. It nearly suffocates him, and he pushes you away to catch his breath.
“Naughty girl,” he scolds you; you wink at him and he smirks.
Fingers do not lay idle; they trace rivulets down his smooth skin now prickled with heat. His heart pumps hard beneath your palm and you smile.
Lips place gentle pecks on every inch of his slender form; he growls as you take a nipple between your teeth; tongue lapping the fine sheen of sweat on his chest.
Your hands find their way inside his sweats, and with one swift action you pull them and his boxers down; he’s trembling now, and ready for you; hips thrusting upward as you take his swollen length inside your mouth.
Fingers entwine in your hair as you lick and suck; he grits his teeth as you finish him off; crying out at the top of his lungs, his lean body bucks upward as he spills inside your mouth.
Gasping, he mutters under his breath, but there is no mistaking his words.