Walk With Me

53. On Top

I'm sure you know by now which one of those won. I mean, beautiful man who knows exactly how to combine the soft touch of his hands with the delicately dangerous movement of his tongue, or clean the toilets? Is it even a question?

I reach my hand up to his door, knocking quietly, hoping he's actually here. It takes a minute before he answers, but when he does, he doesn't hesitate to scoop me up, pulling me into his place. I'm suddenly pressed up against the door he just kicked closed and being pinned up this way feels intoxicatingly good. Surprisingly good given the nature of it all, but anything Tommy does gives me a new sense of adrenaline, of love and passion and desire all wrapped up into this pretty little package, complete with a sparkling bow.

"I thought you were working tonight?" he says between kisses, his heavy breaths tingling all of the good parts.

"I was. Now I'm not," I bring my lips back to his, needing to taste him again. "I have a few hours before I need to get Mia..." I let those words suggestively linger in the air as I watch the small smile curving at the corner of his mouth.

"A few hours, huh? And what should we do with all of this extra time?"

I press my lips back to his, feeling his tongue desperately searching for mine. It's been way too long. He must feel it too because in a few quick and rather swift strides, I'm being thrown down on his bed. His body back on mine, his hands working to remove the barriers between us.

That fire that lingers whenever he's near ignites, my body suddenly clinging to his. My leg intertwines with his as my hand slides through his hair. There's a deep growl that leaves his throat, causing me to move my fingers to his back, clawing to bring him closer.

I can feel his firm length teasing me now, pressing against the hot pulsing desire emanating between my legs. His hand glides down the bare skin of my chest, pausing to play with my breast before continuing his journey down south. Those spirited fingers soon dance along my panty line, pulling them out of the way and sliding them down my legs. His hands trail my inner leg leaving waves of goosebumps as he teases his way back up to my folds.

"Fuck," he whispers as he dips his fingers inside me, feeling how much I crave him.

My head pushes back, revealing my neck to him. He reads what I need, his face falling into the crook of my neck as his tongue goes to work.

A loud exhale sails through my lips as the pleasure begins to increase. My hips lift from the bed, beginning to match the swirling movements of his hand. But it's not enough, I need more. He feels it too because he slides his fingers out, my core still buzzing with desire, on the brink of falling apart.

He looks at me for a brief moment before rolling to the side, bringing my body on top of his. There's a battle of emotions flooding me now. This here, this position of complete control is foreign to me. But watching him, seeing those darkening eyes trace the length of my body as I sit on full display on top of him, does something to me. Wakes something inside of me. I want to be in control.

I slide my hands along his chest, feeling the curves I've come to memorize. I take my time, pausing on his heart, feeling the steady beats as he watches me. There's a sense of power in straddling a man.

I move slightly to remove the last barrier of clothing before settling back on top of him. He's still watching my movements, his hands still exploring. I lift my hips just enough to move him inside me, sliding them back down as I feel him fill me. At my pace. Because I'm the one controlling how this goes. His hands cling to my hips as his eyes find mine. I watch as they grow darker, my hips rolling back and forth creating a rhythm of my own, one that he matches.