38 Eating Ice Dic #3
"Is this what you wanted? When I was licking that ice cream so... carefully?"
Ansh's jaw clenched. His hips pressed forward into her touch, involuntary, chasing the pressure. "You knew exactly what you were doing."
"Maybe." She smiled, her thumb rubbing circles over the swollen head through the fabric. "Did you imagine my mouth on you? Right there, in the shop, with people walking by?"
He kissed her again instead of answering-hard, bruising, his tongue pushing past her lips with a greed that made her moan into him. His hands found the clasp of her bra, fumbled for a second, then unhooked it.
He pulled the straps down her shoulders, tossing it aside, and his palms cupped her breasts-warm, soft, her nipples already stiff against his skin. He rolled one between his thumb and forefinger, tugging gently, and she broke the kiss with a sharp inhale.
"Ansh-"
He lowered his head, his mouth replacing his fingers.
His tongue circled one nipple, wet and hot, before he sucked it into his mouth, drawing on it with a slow, rhythmic pull that made her back arch off the mattress.
Her hand flew to the back of his head, pressing him closer, and her hips rolled against his, grinding against the hard ridge of his cock through their clothes.
"You're such a fucking tease," he muttered against her skin, moving to her other breast. His teeth grazed the sensitive peak, and she whimpered, her thighs tightening around his waist.
"You love it." Her voice came out breathless, fractured. She reached down and tugged at his shirt, pulling it up. He broke away just long enough to yank it over his head and throw it aside, then his chest pressed against hers-bare skin on bare skin, the heat between them almost unbearable.
Niyati's hands roamed his back, her nails dragging light trails down his spine. She kissed his jaw, his neck, the hollow of his throat, tasting salt on his skin. Her tongue traced the line of his collarbone, and she felt his breath hitch, felt the muscles in his back tense under her fingers.
"I thought about it," she murmured against his neck, her lips brushing his pulse. "On the drive here. About getting on my knees for you. About wrapping my mouth around your cock and making you lose your mind."
Ansh pulled back, his dark eyes blazing. His hand came up to cup her face, thumb tracing her lower lip-the same lip she'd dragged across the ice cream cone. "You want to?"
She held his gaze. Her tongue flicked out, licking the pad of his thumb. "I want you to fuck my mouth."
A sound escaped him-half groan, half growl.
He rolled off her, lying on his back, and she rose to her knees beside him.
Her hands went to his belt, unbuckling it with practiced ease, then the button, then the zipper.
She tugged his jeans and boxers down in one motion, and his cock sprang free-thick, hard, the head flushed and glistening with precum.
Niyati settled between his legs, her breasts brushing his thighs as she lowered her head.
She pressed a kiss to the tip, soft as a whisper, then ran her tongue along the underside of his shaft-from base to head, slow and deliberate, exactly the way she'd licked that ice cream cone.
Ansh's hand fisted in the sheets, his hips fighting the urge to thrust upward.
"Like this?" she asked, her breath hot against his wet skin.
She didn't wait for an answer. Her lips parted, and she took the head into her mouth, sucking gently, her tongue swirling around the ridge.
She lowered herself inch by inch, her mouth warm and wet and impossibly tight, until she'd taken him to the back of her throat.
"Fuck-" His hand moved from the sheets to her hair, not pushing, just holding, his fingers tangling in the dark strands.
She began to move, bobbing her head in a slow, torturous rhythm, her lips sealed around his shaft, her tongue working the underside with each stroke.
She pulled back until just the head remained in her mouth, swirled her tongue around it, then sank down again, taking him deep.
His breathing grew ragged. "Niyati-"
Her name came out broken, half-strangled.
She hummed around him, the vibration sending a jolt through his entire body, and he bucked involuntarily, his cock hitting the back of her throat.
She didn't gag-she swallowed around him, her throat muscles massaging his length, and he let out a string of curses under his breath.
She released him with a wet pop, her hand wrapping around his shaft, stroking slowly as she looked up at him.
Her lips were swollen, glistening, her eyes bright with want.
"You taste good," she whispered, then licked him from base to tip again, a long, flat stroke of her tongue that made his thighs shake.
He pulled her up before he could finish, his hands gripping her arms, dragging her body over his.
He kissed her-tasting himself on her tongue, salty and musky and obscene.
His hands shoved down her shorts, her underwear, kicking the fabric away.
She straddled him, bare skin pressed against bare skin, her wet pussy sliding against the length of his cock without taking him inside.
"I need-" she started, but he silenced her with another kiss, his hands gripping her hips, controlling the slide of her body against his. The friction was maddening-her clit rubbing against the head of his cock with each roll of her hips, the wetness between them slicking the way.
"Tell me," he said against her mouth, his voice rough.
"Inside me. Please."
He flipped her onto her back, settling between her thighs.
His cock pressed against her entrance, and he paused-just a heartbeat-looking down at her in the amber light.
Her hair fanned across the pillow, her lips parted, her chest heaving.
Then he pushed forward, sinking into her inch by inch, and she cried out, her nails digging into his shoulders, her body arching to take him deeper.
He filled her completely, stretching her, and for a moment neither of them moved-just the feeling of being joined, the heat and the pressure and the overwhelming rightness of it.
Then he began to move, slow at first, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in, each thrust deliberate, controlled, driving them both toward the edge with agonizing patience.
Her legs wrapped around him, heels pressing into the small of his back, pulling him deeper. "Faster," she gasped, and he obeyed-his hips snapping forward, the rhythm building, the sound of skin against skin filling the room alongside their mingled breath and moans.
The climax built like a wave-slow, inevitable, crashing over them both. She came first, her body clenching around him, her back bowing off the bed, his name tearing from her throat. He followed seconds later, burying himself deep inside her, his release pulsing hot as he groaned against her neck.
They lay tangled together afterward, breathing hard, the sweat cooling on their skin. Ansh pressed a lazy kiss to her temple, and Niyati smiled, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his chest.
"Next time," she murmured, "I'm getting chocolate."