Harlowe #2
“You like me on my knees at your feet, ready to worship you, Lowe?” His words are a sexy taunt mere inches from my mouth as he bends over me.
“I like you anywhere with me, but that will do. Now, are you going to fuck me, or are we going to dinner?”
He palms my breasts, pressing them together, and I arch into his touch. “You’re a little brat.”
I shrug, unfazed, and smile coyly at him. “I’ve been called worse.”
His hands still. “I’ll kill anyone who says anything worse.
” He's suddenly more serious than he’s been since we arrived on the island.
“No one has the right to speak badly of someone this… fucking… amazing,” he says, placing kisses on each of my nipples in turn as he speaks.
His focus returning to sex means he wasn’t that serious about his comment.
Besides, I don't think it’s worth the total buzzkill to go into the endless times the opposite has been true, so instead, I wrap a leg around his hip and roll us so I’m straddling his hips.
I’m now within reach of the bowl of condoms we keep on the nightstands flanking the bed for easy access, and I grab one, opening it and easily slipping it on him.
“I think I’d like to ride you before dinner. Watching you crawl to me got my horse kink going,” I joke, and we both laugh.
“That would be called pony play, which is why I know you don’t actually have that kink,” Zander says, grabbing the base of his cock and holding it upright for me. “But, fuck yes, you can ride me anytime.”
I scoot up until he’s notched at my opening and inch down until the head is inside me, my head rolling back at the delicious way I have to stretch to accommodate his girth. I have to lift and adjust several times before he is able to press in.
“That’s a good girl. You can take me,” Zander says, his hands heavy on my hips, pressing my body down on him as I whimper. “Your body was made for my cock. Just a little more, baby.” Finally, he’s all the way inside of me and I pant in relief. “Fuck, you feel so good, Lowe.”
He’s certainly the biggest man I’ve slept with, and it takes a moment to adjust each time, but damn, does he fill me perfectly, and hit every spot just right.
It doesn’t matter if I bounce up and down like I’m recreating a porno or if I rock my hips back and forth, it always feels good, and he always gets me off, which hasn’t been true for those other men.
I start rocking my hips and place my hands on Zander’s thighs behind me for balance.
He takes the opportunity this presents and palms my breasts, taking his sweet time to weigh each round globe in his hands.
He runs his fingers across my skin and rolls my nipples in his fingers, pulling each tight bud once they are straining at his touch, eliciting gasps from me.
I feel the sensation zing through my body—a lightning bolt sent straight to my pussy—and my orgasm hits me out of nowhere, startling us both at the intensity as I clamp down on him and shout in ecstasy.
“Fuck,” I swear, folding forward as the waves rush over me and I continue to scream my release as Zander pinches my nipples.
“Too much,” I finally beg, covering his hands with my own and forcing them away as my orgasm abates.
I’m sweating, my chest heaving, and he has a delighted smile on his face like he just got a new toy.
“That’s fun,” he says in awe, sitting up and pulling me tighter to his body, hands possessive and roaming.
“Your nipples are an on button for your clit.” He bends his head and his lips meet my neck, kissing along my skin until he finds a spot on my neck that has me shivering in his arms and my pussy clenching him again in little aftershocks.
“I’m not some machine you can turn on or off at will, you psycho,” I say on a breathy exhale, but there isn't much rebuke in my tone. I didn’t even know that about my body. I’ve had my boobs played with, of course, and my nipples, too, but it’s never felt like that.
Zander continues kissing along my skin and moving me in his lap, finding all of my erogenous spots, capturing my moans with his mouth, and proving he’s in control of this session no matter who is on top.
I’ve never been this responsive with anyone else before.
There’s something about the draw Zander has on me, the physical connection we obviously have together, that has our bodies so in tune.
And he’s more than aware of it. Like right now, as his talented fingers work their way back to my breasts and stroke over my nipples, until they are tight peaks he can pluck, and set me off again.
I buck wildly against him as the release surges through me, leaving me panting from the power of it.
He holds me tightly through the waves, thrusting his hips into me as it continues.
My fingers thread through his hair and wrap around his strong shoulders, finding my own way to stay grounded.
“You feel so fucking good,” he rasps into my neck. “I love when you come for me. Three now. How many more can I get from you, Lowe? I want your pussy clenching my cock until you’re a shaking mess, begging to stop.”
“I’m not above begging, but it’s for more,” I gasp, wanting to even the playing field, just a little bit.
But he’s keeping score, and he’s winning.
Through the frenzied lust we’ve felt and our mutual desire for each other, Zander is taking the time to learn my body.
He’s getting to know every sound I make and cataloging how I move so he’ll know what I like and what will set me off even faster the next time our bodies come together.
This is more than casual, more than a typical fuckboy wanting a willing plaything on a fancy vacation.
I was happy to be the willing plaything, but now, well, it’s already feeling different.
Better. I’ve been Zander’s sole focus each day.
My pleasure, his priority. My challenges, his game. That’s not feeling casual.
Maybe… oh God, do I even let myself think it now? Maybe he wants more than casual with me? Before I can even let my thoughts trail down that rocky road that will obviously lead to disappointment, I cut myself off.
I know the score. No attachments. That’s Zander Olsen to a T.
It doesn't matter if he looks at me right now like he wants to memorize every curve of my body, or his kisses demand ever more from my mouth, and his body fits better with mine each time we come together.
The next orgasm hits me with the same force as the thought that when these two weeks are up, so are we.
I just have to keep reminding myself of that.