Chapter Nine #2
I opt to watch her directly, and oh fuck was that the right choice. She moans around my cock and the vibration from it shoots directly to my spine. She removes one hand from me and sucks me straight down her throat, completely bottoming out, and I’m immediately seeing stars.
The hand she removed from me is now expertly unclasping her bra in the back.
She discards it on the ground next to us and her hand drifts up to cup a breast and squeeze.
I think I'd sell an organ in exchange for an arm long enough to reach the other one, but it's just out of reach.
She's still bobbing back and forth, my hand resting gently on her head, as she takes her nipple between her fingers and rolls it, gracing me with a rumbling moan again.
My eyes zero in on every movement, taking note for later.
Hyperfocusing on her hand awards me a small amount of control, but then she throws that out the window too when that hand drifts south.
She runs her fingertips gently along her waistband before diving her hand in and I involuntarily fist the back of her hair.
Before I can loosen my grip, her eyes turn pleading, and she gives me an encouraging moan. Use me.
Fuck. I drop my half-assed grip on her hair and try again, sliding my fingers up the nape of her neck and curling as much of her short hair between my fingers as I can.
She continues working herself as I push harder on the back of her head, keeping the same pace but pressing deeper into her throat.
Tears leak from the corners of her eyes and her lips thin as they stretch to accommodate me.
The sight of her alone is enough to make the tension at the base of my spine bubble over.
The hand she has wrapped around my base squeezes tighter and my already flimsy focus snaps like a rubber band.
As phenomenal as her mouth feels, I need to be inside her immediately.
I can't explain it, but the need is all-consuming.
I use my grip on her hair to pull her back and my cock falls out of her mouth with a pop.
Her eyebrows pinch in confusion, until I'm hauling her up by her shoulder.
Her hair still fisted in one hand, I slip the other around the column of her throat and feel her swallow and she gazes up at me with heavy-lidded eyes.
I gently yank her hair back, angling her face up and leaning in for a punishing kiss.
I slowly walk her backwards into the mirror and pull back from the kiss just before her ass hits the glass. She glares at me, panting, and I arch an eyebrow at her.
"Well, aren't you a needy thing," I mutter, releasing my hold on her to drag both hands down her bare sides and settle on her hips.
She returns the sentiment by grabbing a handful of balls and squeezing.
I exhale a groan, and I catch my eyes darkening in the mirror behind her.
The flash of fear on her face tells me she sees it too.
It only lasts a second before her gaze heats.
That's it, she's fucked around enough. Time to find out.
I spin her around by her hips until she's facing the mirror again and cage her in with one hand planted against the glass on either side of her head.
She catches my eye in the mirror and every square inch of my skin heats at her smirk.
Fog forms on the mirror around my hands, with another little puff of fog between them from her panting breath.
I'll be back here tomorrow morning cleaning handprints and scrubbing this place down for hours. Worth it.
I slip one finger into the back of her waistband and let it snap back, our eyes still locked in the mirror.
"Off," I growl. She wastes no time, hooking her thumbs in to slip them down her legs and tossing them on the pile with her sweater.
My lips part and every muscle in my body freezes as I take her in.
Her shoulders are narrow, her waist tapering in just a bit before flaring out into wide hips wrapped in nothing but black lace.
I run my fingers along the tiny white lines and dimples covering the surface of them and she shivers.
I slip my hands back around her waist and trace the edges of the lace.
Not quite a thong, but dangerously close.
I don't miss the fact that it matches the bra on the discard pile perfectly.
I may not have anticipated this, but she did.
Fuck, that makes this whole thing so much hotter.
The urge to rip the flimsy lace straight off of her body is overwhelming, but I settle for sliding them down myself.
I let out an involuntary groan as they fall and she kicks them into the pile too.
With her legs now bare, I can see the rest of the tattoo on her thigh in the mirror.
The curling bits at the top are the snakes making up the top of a Medusa head.
It's part of a larger collage of what looks like scenes from Greek mythology.
I realize that's what the bars on the sides of her spine look like.
I read somewhere that they're called Greek meandros, like the borders on fabrics and paintings.
This is so not the most important thing to be thinking about right now, you fucking nerd. Right. Anyway.
Her gaze meets mine in the mirror and her cheeks heat when she sees me staring.
Probably drooling. Shit. Her eyes narrow and she stares pointedly at my chest. "Off," she commands, and I don't hesitate to oblige.
I toss the button up off, slip my t-shirt over my head, and kick off my jeans.
The second I'm upright again, she backs up into me, leaning forward with her palms pressed on the glass.
I groan and widen my stance to meet her height, leaning forward to mold my body against her back.
I dig my fingertips into her hips and pull her back, my still painfully hard cock sliding between the apex of her thighs like it was meant to be there.
My right hand skates over her hip and across her burning center while the left holds her firmly in place.
I dip my middle finger through her wetness, dragging it up to her clit as her breath catches.
I mimic the small circles she used on herself earlier and her silence quickly becomes gasping moans.
Her head leans back, eyes shooting open to meet mine in the reflection.
That's right, troublemaker. I took notes.
I slip two thick fingers inside and continue the circles with my thumb, her whole body tensing.
She bucks back against me, and the friction is almost enough to do me in early.
As if she knows I'm already tiptoeing on the edge, she turns to look at me.
"Please," she pleads in between pants, her hand reaching behind her to grab my cock. Oh, she's definitely trying to kill me.
I pause, quickly realizing that I wasn't anticipating this, so I did not come prepared. Of course she notices the look of sheer panic on my face, because she fucking notices everything. And then she laughs and I'm about to spiral when she lays a hand over the one I'm currently digging into her hip.
"S’ok," she mumbles. “Covered and clean.” Oh, thank fuck. Relief washes over me, and I loosen my grip. I get one good exhale out before my brain fully processes what she's telling me, and I let out a feral growl. Didn't expect to be that excited about it but here we are. New kink unlocked, I guess?
With thoroughly renewed vigor, I press her hip back against me again, harder than before.
My hand tangles into the back of her hair, pushing her face down and bending her over farther.
Her palms squeak against the glass as she slides them down with her and we both stop for a second to laugh.
Her eyes are still locked on me in the mirror when I position the head of my cock at her entrance.
Her jaw drops open on a moan as I press in slowly, stretching her walls around me.
Once I'm fully inside, I give her a second to adjust, releasing my grip on her hair and instead wrapping my fingers around the nape of her neck.
Her muscles tighten around me as I pull almost all the way out before slamming back inside.
Her strangled scream echoes through the bowling alley and I continue thrusting at a punishing pace.
She mumbles between moans, an unintelligible combination of "fuck" and something that might be another language.
I can feel the heat trickling down my spine, but I need to get one more out of her before I'm done. The hand on the back of her neck snakes around and molds around her throat, pulling her head back against me and stepping forward to press her skin against the cold mirror.
I continue driving into her, the hand around her hip drifting down again to slip through her wetness.
I can feel her whole body tensing up and I release her throat, all the blood rushing to her head.
Her pussy tightens around me as she falls over the edge with a loud groan and takes me right along with her.
I thrust into her as far as I can and hold there, her walls fluttering around my cock as I empty deep inside her with a rasping moan.
A whimper escapes her, and she starts to slide out of my grip.
My arm wraps around her waist before she can fall forward, the other arm bracing us against the mirror.
If I could live like this, inside her and around her, I would.
I turn us around and sag down the mirror to the floor.
Mostly because neither of us is capable of conscious thought right now, let alone vertical stability.
The mirror is like ice on my back, and it brings me back to consciousness.
Both arms wrap around her middle, holding her tight to me.
I swipe the sweat-soaked hair from her forehead back and pepper kisses across her face and down the side of her neck, pausing just below her ear to bury my face in the crook of her shoulder.
We sit in comfortable silence like that for a few minutes before she mumbles something about cleaning up and I nod, helping her lift herself off of me.
We both stand, legs wobbling, and she turns to grab her pile of clothes.
Nope, I'm not done yet. I grab her wrist and spin her back to me, catching her in my arms before she can lose her balance.
Both of my hands come down in a gentle smack, a handful of ass cheek in each palm.
She beams up at me, slapping a hand against my chest before bouncing up on her toes to crush her lips against mine.
Her fingers tangle in my loose hair, the elastic band lost somewhere in the shuffle, and she nips once at my bottom lip.
"Fucking troublemaker," I mumble, and she beams up at me before planting one more kiss. I slip my hands down to the back of her thighs and she squeals as I lift her up and tuck her feet behind me. I walk her over to the couch in the nearest bowling lane and drop her on the cushion.
"Stay," I order. "I'll be back." She waves a hand at me and gives me a noncommittal noise, but she leans back on her elbows and doesn't move. My gaze drags across her flushed skin one more time before I grab my jeans and head to the kitchen.