“You’re making me crazy, baby,” he murmurs and I grin.
“You haven’t seen anything yet, honey.” I nip his chin, run my tongue down his neck, and glide my mouth and hands down his torso, settling back on my heels between his legs. His cock is full and hard, and I circle the tip with my finger, over the silver balls.
“I like this,” I murmur and he chuckles.
“Do you?”
“Hmmm.”
“I’m glad.” I run my finger down his length and over his scrotum, then back up to the tip. “Jesus, baby, that feels good.”
I lean down and follow the path my finger took with the tip of my tongue and the bed shifts as he falls onto his back, growling.
“Fuck, seeing that little pink mouth of yours on my cock is so sexy.”
It’s about to get a lot sexier.
I swirl my tongue around the tip and sink down over him, and suddenly his strong hands are in my hair, guiding me up and down, directing me where he wants me to go, and it’s so fucking hot.
His hips are moving beneath me, pushing up into my mouth, and just when I think he’s about to let go, he grips my shoulders and I’m suddenly on my back with Nate over me, spreading me wide open, and pushing into me, hard.
“Oh, God!” My back arches, and his lips find a nipple, his arms wrapped around my waist, as he pushes into me, over and over again. He pulls me up so I’m straddling him, his hands find my ass and raise and lower me over him, grinding deeply into me, his mouth still on my breast. I bear down and squeeze him, feeling those silver balls in my core, and I come apart around him, shuddering and convulsing.
“Fuck, yes,” he cries out and pulls me down one more time as he erupts inside me.
***
I’m on my back again, staring at the ceiling, Nate wrapped around me, his cheek resting on my belly and arms around my waist. We’re still panting, coming down from our violent orgasms.
“That was fun,” I grin and run my fingers through his hair. “Let’s do it again.”
“Jesus, Julianne, give a man a chance to recover.”
“Don’t be a pussy.” I laugh as he bites my belly and climbs up my body, resting on his elbow to my right side. He brushes the hair that came out of my bun off my face and kisses me sweetly, then bites my lip.
“Ow!”
“You have such a dirty mouth.”
“I just call ‘em like I see ‘em.” He bites my lip again, more gently this time, and I sigh against his mouth.
“And you see me as a pussy?” he asks, deceptively softly.
“Hmm… maybe not.”
He leans back and raises an eyebrow. “Maybe?”
“Probably not.”
“I’ll show you how much of a pussy I am, baby.”
He’s suddenly inside me again, and I’m tucked beneath him, and … holy shit.
Chapter Fourteen
Cooking with Nate this past week has been a lot of fun. We get side-tracked a lot, and burned the hell out of a perfectly innocent pork tenderloin when we lost track of time in the shower one evening, but it’s exciting to be creative with him in the kitchen. Up until tonight we’ve either eaten out or cooked together, and I want to cook for him.
So I am.
It’s Sunday evening and we’re back at Nate’s place for the night. Alecia’s cleaning crew did a great job at the house, but we decided to come back to Nate’s condo so he can get some work done in his office.
Because I prefer to cook to music, I plug my iPod into his sound system and crank it up. Yes, my cooking music tastes are a bit… juvenile. I prefer pop music to dance around the kitchen to. Britney Spears. Lady GaGa. Maybe a little Carly Rae and her Call Me Maybe. In fact, that works. Carly starts to sing through the speakers hidden throughout the room and I start to shake my ass while compiling what I need for dinner.
Hmm… I wonder what Nate would look like in ripped jeans? Good call, Carly Rae.
I pour myself a glass of fruity white wine, take a sip and pull my hair up into a messy twist at the crown of my head. I’m still wearing gray yoga pants and a black tank top from our trip to the gym today. God, I love watching Nate work out. At thirty, his body is incredible. Hell, his body is incredible for a twenty year old.
I still didn’t win in the ring today, but I knocked him on his ass twice, and that’s a victory in my book.
I smile smugly and quarter baby red potatoes for roasting, plopping them in cold water until I’m ready for them. The chicken I’m roasting with lemon and basil goes in the oven when the bell rings, telling me it’s warm enough. I’ll round out the meal with roasted asparagus with garlic.
I have time for a shower, so I set the kitchen timer for one hour, grab my wine, and walk down the hallway to the master bedroom, passing Nate’s office. His door is open, and he’s at the desk with the phone cradled between his ear and shoulder, and he’s typing furiously on his keyboard.
“No, fuck that, they’ll never accept that offer,” he snaps, but his eyes soften when he sees me in the doorway.
“Dinner’s still a couple hours away. I’m hitting the shower,” I whisper.
“Hold on, Parker.” He pushes the receiver against his shoulder so Parker can’t hear him. “Okay, baby. What is that noise coming out of my speakers out there?”
“Cooking music.” I shrug innocently, blow him a kiss and saunter into the bathroom, stripping as I adjust the water temperature in his amazing shower. This bathroom is beautiful, and the shower is big enough to host a small orgy with a large rain shower-head in the ceiling. It feels incredible.
Thankfully, Nate’s sound system is wired throughout the whole condo, except his office, so I’m shimmying my hips and singing along to Pocket Full Of Sunshine as I lather up my hair. I lean my head back and let the hot water flow over me, rinsing my hair. The soapy lather falling down my back and over my breasts, bottom and legs feels so good on my skin, still sensitive from today’s workout, and my hands glide over my breasts, the nipples puckering on contact.
Mmm… pitty Nate has so much work tonight. I could use some company. He’s very inventive in the shower.
John Mayer starts to sing through the speakers about my body being a wonderland, and my hands start to slide all over my torso, one wandering closer to the homeland.