her tongue playfully circled mine. I could stay there forever, but I was pulled to more visceral places, falling into the hunger in her touch when she took my bottom lip and tugged.
I slid my hands down her body, finding the curve of her ass and lifted her up, trying to downplay the thrill that fluttered through my chest when she roped her arms around my neck and grinned from ear to ear. The table was set, but the only thing I was interested in eating was her.
I dropped to my knees. The need to devour her dueled with the memory of how we began.
Back at The Tower, two strangers crossed paths. Our beginning was grounded in urges. I wanted to fuck. I wanted to get lost in someone. My motives were singular.
Meeting her, seeing the fight in her eyes that wouldn't be denied or snuffed out, I couldn’t treat that session like every other, even if money was exchanged. Looking back, unafraid to delve deeper and stare at what lied beneath, I wished we could have met some other way. Not because what we did was wrong or dirty—I just wanted her to know that for me, she was so much more than a possession to be bought. More than something to be owned.
I wanted her to know that she was priceless.
The first time I’d been this close, fingertips digging into her milky skin, looking at the delicious beauty between her thighs, I’d feasted. I’d dove in head first (well, technically mouth first ), like a man who wasn’t sure when he’d get his next meal. I thought only of myself. I thought of the orgasm that I was going to give her, because I was the one in control. I was going to make her body mine.
For all my talk about being different than Crowe and the standard The Tower member, I’d still made that first encounter about me.
“Is something wrong?”
The muscles in her thighs tightened and when I peered up at her, that fight, the Sadie that first roped me in, was replaced by a nakedness that I couldn’t look away from. Despite my selfishness back then, and let’s be honest, now, she was still here. The tremble in her chin spoke to me loud and clear. It said, ‘God don’t let me be wrong about this guy...’
I swept my thumb over her knee, lifting my lips into a smile. “You didn’t kick me out and I have the best view in the house. Everything is perfect.”
She was too tough to let me see her sigh with relief, but her body relaxed and she scooted a little closer to the edge. Her hooded eyes were filled with lust as she gazed down at me, biting her bottom lip. “My view isn’t half bad, either.”
Her words had a direct line to my balls and I felt her tugging, massaging them with her playfulness. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt like a woman wanted me. Not my money. Not to be seen with me. Sadie could care less about all of that.
She wanted me .
"Do you like to watch?" I asked, excitement flaring inside me. I knew the answer. I hadn't even gotten started yet and she was already quivering beneath my fingertips. Her eyes, eyes that lesser men would have found intimidating, were watching my every move. I saw things I didn't deserve. A wide eyed trust that whatever came next, her answer would be 'yes'. She wouldn't stop saying yes. In the flutter as she took me in from behind her hooded eyes I saw that she'd been dreaming about this too.
I showed her that her dream paled in comparison to my real life touch, easing forward. I took my tongue and traced the inside of her thigh and her quivers raced through her skin and rippled through me.
I saw the cotton of her black shorts, still remembering her taste, but I wouldn't be me if I didn't make her writhe and beg for it a little. I stopped mid thigh, retracting my tongue, blowing gently on the trail I made.
"I asked you a question, Red."
"Don't-"
I almost got the shot in the dark that would have made me forget all the progress I made and just bury myself in her pussy. If she would have finished that statement, Don't stop , I would have been through. Not
Michael Bar-Zohar, Nissim Mishal