Page 56 of Stroked Hard
What the hell?
Nice?
No, it doesn’t feel nice, it feels like something I can’t handle, something I don’t want. And yet, I’m still allowing it happen.
It’s just because I wanthim. I want him so bad for one night that I’m willing to give in to these little relationship-type things he’s initiating.
That’s what I tell myself at least.
“Relax, baby,” he whispers into my ear. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
That voice cuts right through me, sending a wave a heat through my body, settling in my core, letting me know once again, I haven’t gotten off.
Knowing I won’t get any sleep without relaxing, I shift slightly on the bed to melt into his embrace. He shifts as well to accommodate my new position, causing his hand to slide up my stomach and his fingers to barely caress my bare breasts that peek out just below the crop top I’m wearing that has risen from my shift.
We’re both still, our breathing paused. My entire body heats up from the touch. It is so small, the smallest of grazes, but oh my God, it ignites a flame inside me.
That small touch does everything I don’t want tonight. It turns me on. It makes me want more.That’swhy I find my body shifting down so his fingers graze me again. This time, I hear the catch in his breath and from behind, there is no mistaking how he’s hardening by the second.
We lie there, not saying a word, not moving, just feeling the palpable energy that’s bouncing between us.
What is he going to do next? It’s obvious he’s hard; will he flip me over and finally fuck me like I want? Or will he ignore the touch and go to sleep? Please not the latter. I will wilt into dust if I go without an orgasm tonight.
From behind, he takes a deep breath. As he exhales, his hand moves a little higher, his fingers just below my breasts now. My heart is pounding in my chest; my senses are on overload.
Just do it, Hollis,pleasejust fucking touch me.
As if he can read my mind, his finger glides along the tender skin of my breast, just at the bottom, not even coming close to the nipple, but the feeling of him touching me, does something to my libido, skyrocketing it into overdrive.
Breathing hard, I puff my chest out and push my head back, wanting him to feel more.
Which he does, but not where I want him to.
With his index finger and thumb, he slowly slides them up the sides of my breasts and then back to the bottom, barely skimming my skin. It’s just a whisper of a touch, whisper of a cupping with his fingers, and it’s torture. Pure torture.
A throbbing sensation overtakes my clit, and my stomach burns with need. Everything in me is aware and awakened from his touch.
My head bows back against his shoulder, and his mouth finds my ear, where I can hear his heavy breathing, hisarousedbreathing. It’s erotic, intoxicating. He’s affected as much as I am.
His fingers continue to move along the sides of my breasts, the sensation something I’ve never felt before. It’s gentle, exploratory, almost . . . loving. He doesn’t want to ravage me, he wants to learn me, worship me.
And hell if he isn’t learning right now that I’m a boob girl.
From the small caresses he’s made, I’m soaking wet. I’m throbbing. I’m primed and ready to go.
Leaning so his mouth is directly over my ear, his hand still in place, he runs his nose along the edge and when he reaches my lobe, he pulls it into his mouth and rolls it between his teeth just as his fingers inch closer to my nipple but never touching it.
I can’t help it, I can’t hold back. I moan. I moan his name on an exhale of breath. The sound seems foreign to me. I’m never vocal in bed, but with Hollis, it seems different. He treats me differently.
Instead of thinking about what the hell is happening between us, I just feel.
His fingers caress my sensitive skin, skim it softly, like angel kisses over my breast. The pounding of my clit. The slick arousal between my legs. His mouth working my ear, his breath heavy, his erection pinned against my ass.
And what an erection. What I wouldn’t give to have it inside me right now. I’m practically begging in my head.
“Hollis,” I gasp as he gets closer to my nipple. God, just touch it, please just touch it. The torture is almost unbearable. I’m so aroused right now. Every movement, every smell, every sound is escalated.
“Mel,” he whispers. I’ve never heard this Hollis. He’s . . . quiet, almost reverent.
