[Excerpt]:
"Does it bother you?" He asked, after an incisive moment of silence.
"Does...what bother me?" I immediately returned, unable to decipher the objective behind the closed-ended question.
"The way I stare. At you." He pondered, as his dark...
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"You make me really happy." I reiterated with a little more emphasis, causing him to release a short chuckle. As I removed myself from on top of him, I fell onto the open space beside him. Angling my body in his direction, I watched the rise and fall of his pampered chest while he stared up at the ceiling.
The loud screams and chants originating from the outside parlor returned, as people continued to celebrate the start of the New Year. My eyes momentarily flickered to the window, wondering what Marco and Isabella were currently up to. Hopefully, Marco hadn't still been waiting for me to bring him his beer because that task had been long forgotten.
"You can go back out there, Sasha. I'm not holding you hostage." Kendall urged, though he didn't appear the least bit interested to know what was happening outside.
"I know, but I'd much rather stay here with you. Besides, you're the only person I want to bring in the New Year with. No distractions, just me and you." I offered, examining his tempting, rested form.
"Just me and you, huh?" He mused, also turning on his side and drawing my body back towards him.
Once again, we proceeded to French kiss like two horny teenagers. His lips dragged precariously across mine, morphing with the plump surface and creating a fortified bond. We sung a song of passion and lust, as his teeth, saliva, and insides became one with mine. When he nipped at my mouth and used his teeth to pull on my bottom lip every so often, I couldn't help the sorrowful weeps that began to escape from me. His kisses seemed to strategically mold and reshape me from the inside out.
It wasn't long before one of his hands boldly slithered between our two physical forms, latching onto my lower region and beginning to undo the zipper to my pants. The sudden action caused my head to abruptly withdraw from the kiss, preferring to place my attention on where his fiery hands lingered near my heat. The intensity of his kisses didn't stop, as he synchronously unzipped my pants.
Lifting my butt from the bed, I tried to make it easier for him to slide my pants down my legs. Once he did, I was overcome by the persistent sensation of his touch. His hands roamed the exposed area, rubbing my depth through the thin fabric of my body suit.
Stirring from his inviting touch, I tried to squeeze my legs shut but his body submerged between them and prevented the intended enclosure. Instead, he continued to stroke me at an incredulously slow pace, pausing every so often to observe my reaction.
I released a grumpy sigh, causing him to smirk.
"What? Is this not enough for you? You have to tell me what you want, baby." He darkly spewed, preceding to rub my center, even though he knew I desired far more stimulation.
I wanted to tell him what I truly needed, but I was embarrassed. It was humbling to think that I could willingly turn into a submissive sloven by just the harrowing touch of his fingers. Yet, that's how much I desired the man. Everything about him was so tantalizing that I surprised myself more and more each day at my own practice of self-discipline and restraint.