Read Mikalo's Grace for Free Online Page B

gently overwhelmed with the coming of the
storm. A storm still on the horizon, if I chose. And I did. I was
in no rush.
    I wanted this to last forever.
    He was desperate to cum.
    Again.
    He moved his hips.
    My nails quickly moved down his chest,
lightly scratching him.
    He gasped.
    "Be still," I said.
    I stopped.
    Mental note to thank Deni for the
manicure.
    And the Brazilian.
    "I am bigger than you," he then said.
    Putting a finger to his lips, I shushed
him.
    "That you are," I said, picking up the pace
again.
    "Do you want to cum?" I then asked, my eyes
on his.
    He nodded.
    "Yes."
    "Is that what you want?" I asked again, my
movements growing quick.
    He nodded again, his hands moving from behind
his head to guide me.
    I moved off him.
    He groaned, his hardness slapping against his
stomach, thick and hot and dripping wet. Even in the dark, I could
see him throbbing.
    "Hands."
    Slowly, he puts his hands behind his
head.
    I stood, moving to the end of the bed.
    He waited before me, lying quietly, his legs
spread, his arms behind his head. All tanned skin and rippling
muscle and eager, desperate desire.
    My hand ventured below, the fingers finding
the familiar folds as I rubbed the wetness and then, his eyes on
me, dipped my fingers inside.
    A shiver ran through me.
    His breathing grew heavy.
    He moved a hand from behind his head.
    "No," I said.
    I know he wanted to touch himself. To grip
and stroke and tease.
    But no.
    He would watch.
    And then he would fuck me.
    Hard.
    Bending low, my fingers still dancing along
my folds, I moved between his legs, my tongue lightly licking his
knee.
    He gasped.
    Traveling slowly, I tasted his inner thigh.
Little licks. Lapping at the flesh, the beads of sweat in the fine
hair. And then lower, to his muscled calf, before moving north
again, to his knee, his thigh, the scent of his throbbing desire in
my nose.
    And then his width beneath my tongue as I
licked up, up, up to the top, to where his own juices had
collected. And, lovingly taking him deep into my mouth, I licked
him clean.
    "My Grace," he whimpered.
    I stood.
    "Turn over," I said, my fingers now moving
quicker inside me.
    He paused, unsure. And then he turned over,
his face in the pillow, his ass in the air.
    Oh my god, that ass.
    My tongue was on his calves again, the back
of his thighs. My hands, the fingers stained with my lust, now
running over the firm muscles of his legs, his back, feeling the
strength. Massaging and rubbing. The nails gently trailing along
the flesh.
    I bit one cheek.
    He gasped.
    And then the other.
    He moaned.
    I kneeled between his open legs, my knees
forcing them further apart.
    I bent low, my hands on his cheeks, opening
him to me.
    His head moved from the pillow, curious to
see, to watch.
    "No," I said.
    He turned his head, his face back into the
pillow.
    I licked him, the scent of him now on my
face. Of sweat. Of a rare intimacy. Of secrets and shadows. Of a
bond now unbreakable.
    His muscles clenched as his body responded,
the fists clutching the sheets, his gasps and moans lost in the
pillow. He spread his legs further, arched his back, and, pushing
back, offered himself to me.
    I licked again. And again. My tongue moving
up and then down, my nails grazing the firm cheeks, his breath
growing ragged as he gyrated, pushing himself back. My fingertips
toyed with him, massaging the firm base of his hardness and then
cupping his large, delicate twins, gathering them in my fist and oh
so sweetly pulling.
    Another groan.
    My fingers returns to my folds, the heat of
my wetness shocking me.
    I needed him.
    Standing again,
    "Turn over."
    He turned over.
    "Hands?" he asked, his hands in midair. Not
sure if he would be allowed to touch or if they'd be trapped behind
his head.
    "Wait," I said as I straddled him.
    "I want you inside me," I then said.
"Please."
    He gripped himself and held it steady as I
lowered myself once again, his thickness once more stretching me to
the point of panic. I stopped, rested, allowed