Misha
“You.”
The squeak from the goddess before me is almost enough to pull me from the possessive haze I’m spiraling into.
Almost. She’s always on my mind, but the flight back from New York was one long, torturous tease, especially knowing she never took her things back to her own place.
My condo is her home base now, and as I scan her in the nest she’s built for herself on the couch, my heart sings.
Fuzzy socks. Thick book with a…penis charm bookmark? Sweet and salty treat options and at least four emotional support beverages. My woman has made herself at home.
“Me?” she asks, placing her book to the side and rising to greet me. Or at least trying to rise.
With a hand under her knees and one at her back, I scoop her into my arms and don’t waste another second before claiming her lips. Our destination is the bedroom, but as I taste the chocolate she was eating mixed with the sweetness that’s just her, I’m too ravenous to wait.
“You.”
Her fluffy pink robe belies what I know is underneath, and as I adjust her position so that her legs are around my waist and her back is against the wall, it falls open to confirm what she teased me with on the flight.
In contrast to the emerald lace set that my siren teased me with the first time she gave herself to me, this is baby pink.
All lace and frills, with a crop top that would be modest enough to pass on a night out if it wasn’t sheer.
Unable to stop myself, I bend and suck a nipple into my mouth before biting hard enough to elicit a whimper.
“What did I do?” She tries to sound contrite, but as she shimmies her hips as much as she can, desperate for friction, I remember exactly what she’s done.
Hoisting her even higher on the wall and ignoring her shrieks of protest as she tangles both hands into my hair, I’m finally face-to-face with my torment and my salvation.
When she told me she was wearing crotchless panties and waiting for me to get home, I lost all sense of time and space.
Nothing has existed for me since receiving that text except her.
Pressing my mouth into her clit, I don’t offer her any of the relief I know she wants, instead letting the rumble of every word tantalize her with a fraction of the madness she’s caused within me.
“You gave me a taste of the sweetest pussy on earth, knowing I had to spend a weekend away in New York. You sent me pictures of how much you were enjoying being here, in varying states of undress. You decided I needed a play-by-play of how you used your tiny little fingers to get yourself off in the bathtub.”
Pulling back to look up at her flushed face, I can’t help but smirk at how pitiful her texts were by the end of that session. Despite trying her hardest, my woman just couldn’t get herself off the way I can.
“How many fingers did you try, baby? Remind me.”
“Three,” she whines. “Put me down. You can’t hold me up for this long…you’ll drop me. I’m too heavy.”
Burying my face into her core without warning, I delight in her scream, the shake of her thighs against my ears, and the subtle tingle of pain as she digs harder into my scalp.
Fuck yes. Scratch me up, darling. Mark me all over as yours.
When I’ve had enough of a taste to tide myself over, I pull back again, glistening with the evidence of the effect I have on the beauty before me.
“Don’t tell me what to do, Abby. I promise, my decisions will always be for your benefit.
As far as you being heavy, I could hold you like this for hours without tiring.
I’ve spent far more time holding much less pleasurable weight in less enticing conditions.
I want to make you come on my tongue pressed against this wall because I can’t fathom going the twenty feet from here to the bedroom. So that’s what you’re going to do.”
With that, I lose myself in the singular pleasure of cataloging every gasp and moan that Abby gives me, pushing her to the brink before pulling back, relishing every new bead of arousal that forms for me to gorge myself on.
“Please, Misha,” she moans, hands limp in my hair now. She’s no longer tense where I hold her on the wall, pliant and tired from the marathon I haven’t allowed her to finish. “Please let me come. Or fuck me. Preferably both, but I’ll take either. Please.”
“You’re too chatty,” I tease, nipping at one of her lower lips, swollen and red from my attention.
“If you can beg me this much, surely you can take a few more rounds. I promise both activities are on the agenda, but they’ll be on my timeline, not yours, darling.
Not after you were such a little cocktease while I was away. ”
Her whine takes on a frustrated tinge, and I release my chew toy to censure her with a glare.
“I don’t want to hear it. Tell me again. How many fingers did you try to get off with?”
“Three!” Her scream is music to my ears as I unravel, dropping her to my waist, then taking us both to the floor of the hallway. Fuck the bedroom. Every inch of this place needs to hear her explode for me.
“Three fingers. And tell me how that went for you?”
My clothes, forgotten while all my focus was on Abby, suddenly feel constricting and itchy as they keep me from feeling her soft skin against mine.
She’s too tired from her ordeal against the wall to move, but her eyes follow me hotly as I wrench my T-shirt over my head, rip my belt from its loops with one hand, and pull my jeans and briefs down in one go.
She’s protected from the cold floor by her robe spread beneath her, but as I free each of her breasts from the confines of her top, she shivers.
I slowly lower myself onto my forearms, nothing touching her except my cock, weeping and straining as if it understands how close it is to home.
Moving minutely, slowly, I drag myself up and down, my piercing catching on her clit before traveling up toward her belly button.
Her glazed eyes beg me to take her, but I can’t yet.
“I asked you a question, baby. How did three fingers feel?”
My pace is relentless, a steady but agonizing glide up and down, up and down…
“It sucked,” she whines. “They aren’t long enough or wide enough, and when I tried four, it stretched and burned but not the same way as you.”
“You like it when I stretch you, sweetheart?” I can’t help but lean down, just enough for her to feel my heat and my chest hair, and murmur directly below her ear. “You like the burn?”
“Yes, but only with you.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. I—”
“Nuh-uh. If you want this cock, you have to tell me why you like it. Otherwise I’ll go back to eating that tasty little pussy, and give you more time to think about your answer.”
As she trembles, I move to look at her again, and there are tears in her eyes, although she doesn’t seem to be distressed. Other than distressed from waiting impatiently for me to fuck her.
“It only hurts good when it’s with you. Because it means you’re inside me…and because it only ever lasts for a little while before it feels so good. Because it doesn’t hurt the entire time when it’s you.”
Oh, sweetheart.
There’s no more teasing left in me at that, and I reach down to coat her lips with her wetness as thoroughly as I can, spreading her open with my thumb and forefinger before notching myself at her entrance.
The minute wince in the corner of her eye as I slide home slow and true, nestling myself as deep within her as she’ll take me, sends a crackling shock through me.
She’s taking it for you because she trusts you to make it good for her even though you don’t have to. Every single time, she’s trusting you not to hurt her.
“Oh, fuck, darling. There you go. It’s okay,” I coo, leaning more of my weight onto her as she trembles beneath me, legs spread wide and with nowhere to go.
She shifts to try to escape some of the pressure, some of the pain, but all she does as she tries to wrap her legs around my hips is cause me to shift deeper.
I swallow her gasp and put my forehead against hers, cocooning her in with my forearms by her head so that I’m all she sees.
“Just breathe for me, lesnaya. You’re doing so well. You’re taking this big cock so good for me. It won’t sting for long, I promise.”
As she loosens for me, the tightness she held in her shoulders as she braced herself fades, and when she lets her legs fall open once more, I hook her knees around my elbows before resuming my position.
Building my pace, I try to convey the hold she’s had on me, grinding against her clit with every thrust and thanking every god under the sun that I can tell she’s close from how she’s fluttering around me.
“That’s right. You were made for this big cock, weren’t you?
My cock. I can tell you’re close. Are you going to milk me?
Filling you up has been the only thing I’ve been able to think about since I left you here.
It killed me, finally having you, experiencing this fucking exquisite cunt, and knowing you were here, sleeping naked in my sheets without my dick in you. ”
“Not…naked,” she rasps, and I miss half a thrust before regaining my rhythm.
“Naughty girl…I believe I left explicit orders that I wanted you naked every night, didn’t I?”
“You did.” She’s fluttering almost constantly now, and I know it won’t be long before she’s coming and dragging me into the depths of her pleasure with her. “You told me, but I found, fuck. I found a really old thin shirt in your closet, and it was so comfy.”
“Comfy enough to risk getting this perfect ass spanked?”
Her smile is soft as she starts to come, building into what I know is going to be a rapture for us both.
“It had your last name on the back.”