Barbie #3
“Foreplay.” His mouth lands on the tip of my ear, his fingertips digging into the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. “When I fuck you tonight, I want you more than ready for me.” His words are a rough promise. “Does that work for you, Barbie?”
My grip almost slips from his cock as scorching heat settles heavily under my skin. “God. Yes. It so works for me.”
Between sneaky kisses, stolen touches, and spraying each other with handfuls of foamy soap every other minute, it’s a surprise we somehow manage to scrub ourselves clean before the night ends. Or that our bodies aren’t too pruney by the time the water’s turned off.
We stagger out of the shower, practically skin-to-skin, as we stumble into the bathroom counter. Cold granite touches the small of my back, and I stiffen with a yelp.
He blindly yanks one towel off the rack, and I burst into a giggle that twists into an ungodly snorting sound when he hooks it around me and pulls me even closer to him.
One of his muscular thighs wedges between my legs. His erection is hard to ignore when it’s incessantly poking my stomach. Crinkling lines form around his eyes as we exchange wide grins.
Neither of us speaks. My heartbeat thrums in my ears the longer we look at each other.
“Nervous?” he asks after a few beats, breaking the silence.
“Not at all,” I answer truthfully, beaming even brighter as I take the towel from him and pat myself dry. “You?”
“No,” he replies just as quickly. “There’s this girl in front of me who’s very gorgeous and enthusiastic and funny and wet and naked—I can’t help but feel excited.”
“You do feel very excited,” I observe teasingly, tilting my head as my gaze dips to the point of contact between our bodies. “Very, very excited.”
“I did say you’re wet and naked.” A heart-stopping grin appears as he palms my breasts, one hand slipping down to my clit.
Before I can blink, his mouth is on mine, and his tongue slides in deep as he pushes two fingers inside me. I let out a fluttery gasp and arch into his embrace, the towel slipping from my grasp.
“And you feel very, very, very excited,” he murmurs.
“Well,” I begin, “there’s this guy in front of me who’s very gorgeous and enthu—” My head slants back with a whimpering breath as his fingers fuck me at a faster, unrestrained pace.
“Smartass,” he snorts against my lips.
“Pot meets kettle,” I counter.
He chuckles a hoarse sound, pulling away from me before I can deepen the kiss. Hooking his arm around my midsection, he wrenches me around until I’m perched against the wide bathroom counter; his body a solid wall of muscles behind my back.
My attention cuts to our reflection in the fogged, circular mirror as his palm returns to the space between my thighs and rocks against my clit. I bite back a moan and reach for his cock, stroking him firm and steady.
He groans into my hair. “Fuck. I want to be inside you.”
My knees buckle, and we stagger into the sink. My free hand slaps the counter for purchase; my eyelids flutter shut as I grind against his fingers. “Yes. Please.”
“I want to be inside you so fucking badly,” he echoes as his mouth tracks a line to a pulse point behind my ear. “I want you to open your eyes and watch me fuck you from behind.”
My entire body floods with a sudden blaze of glittering heat. I lean forward on my toes, propping my upper half up with my elbows on the counter.
“Watch me fuck this sweet pussy of yours nice and slow,” he continues; his fingers relentlessly assertive as he strokes me deeper.
“I want to see you getting off on my cock—I want you to see your pretty face when you come.” His hand comes to a complete halt.
“I won’t ask again. Open your eyes, baby, and let me show you what you’ve been missing. ”
I let loose a rough exhale, peeking at his reflection through my eyelashes. It’s a sight to take in—our glistening skin and kiss-swollen lips; his strong arm hooked around my waist; his other forearm straining as he teases my clit.
“I’ve never met this side of you before.”
“You wanted me to boss you around,” he points out, then pauses. “Do you want me to dial it back?”
“Absolutely not.” I grind my ass, eliciting a rough intake of breath from him, watching his hair fall over his forehead in the mirror as he bends his knees to be closer to my height and buries his face into the crook of my neck.
His fingers slow to a stop and ease out of me to my protesting whine. His raspy chuckle caresses a sensitive spot behind my ear as he aligns himself against my entrance.
With his arm holding me in place and his lips still teasing my neck, he pushes into me. It’s a steady stretch, one unhurried inch after another. His movement is deliberate, a tease.
A low moan slides free when his thumb lands on my clit, tracing tight circles. I don’t need to see our reflection to know he’s got me in his warm and tight embrace. Or that I’m flushed from head to toe.
I watch him anyway as he plants a line of messy kisses up my neck to the side of my face. His broad chest rises and falls. His biceps ripple. His body is taut while he continues torturing us both with his slow pace.
My lips fall ajar as he finally buries himself completely, exquisitely, inside me. My head inclines, only for him to nip at my neck.
“Eyes forward, baby,” he grunts, scraping his teeth across the curve of my shoulder.
“Mmhmm,” I hum. It’s all I can manage as I push against his thrusts; desperate and needy and so, so achy for the delicious friction of his cock and clever fingers.
“See this?” he murmurs the moment our gaze locks in the mirror. His stubbled jaw prickles my skin. His thumb slicks over my sensitive clit; his other palm slides up to rest against my sternum. “See how much you’re enjoying this?”
I feel exposed. On display. My body bowed backward; my tits jutted out, bouncing with every flex of his hips. “Mmhmm.”
His hand pushes me against his thrusts, and his grip grows rough as his movement quickens into something unrelenting. Deeper.
Pleasure sparks between my thighs. I moan.
“Aw, baby, see how well you’re taking my cock?” He gently bites on my shoulder. “Like you’re made for me.”
My bliss crests and builds like an inferno, climbing higher and higher with each slide of his cock. It’s overwhelming. I don’t know how much more of this—of him—I can take when I fall over the edge and come.
“Come with me,” I whisper to his reflection. I lift one hand, maneuvering it around his neck to pull him in for a messy kiss. “Please come with me. Ethan, please.”
A tortured groan breaks free from his chest. The lines of his face are tight with unbridled lust. Oh. Yes. I like this view very much.
Without delay, his knees knock into the back of my thighs as he speeds up—Jesus. I can’t even swallow back a moan as he fucks into me relentlessly, erratically, almost brutally when he swears into the heat of my skin and his hips jerk against mine with one final thrust.
The weight of his body sinks heavily into me. I don’t even mind. I’m willing to be pinned beneath him for the rest of my life.
He mumbles something too soft for me to hear over the pounding heartbeat in my ears. I catch his reflection in the mirror: hazy eyes, dreamy smile, disheveled hair.
My pulse trips over itself as I pore over every little detail I notice. A peal of wild laughter slips out of me when he begins trailing kisses across my back and shoulder blades.
“Oh my God, you’re already hard again?” I cackle.
“I can’t help it. There’s this girl in front of me who’s—”
“Oh my God,” I echo, trying but failing to stifle my snort. It breaks from me, causing my shoulders to shake. “You’re so lame.”
“You like that about me,” he replies without missing a beat.
“You’re right,” I say, pivoting on my feet so that I’m facing him. “It’s my favorite thing about you.”
He holds my gaze for a lingering moment. “It’s my favorite thing about you, too.”
I don’t know why the words go straight to my heart, but they do. But before I can give it any second thought, his hands land low on my hips and pull me flush to his sweat-slick chest, and my one-track mind is back in full force when his lips find mine in a sweet and slow and never-ending kiss.