Selena Kitt - Beauty

“Do you regret it?” she asked, touching a finger to his lips.

“No,” he admitted hoarsely. She made him tremble.

“Good.” She leaned in and kissed him and he felt the rush of her breath through the knit mask, her tongue licking at his lips. When she reached down and grabbed his hands, putting them on her breasts, he groaned at the incredible weight of them, the shape and shift in his hands as she wiggled, making his cock swell. He couldn’t believe they were doing this, that she wanted him, but everything told him that she did. He would never have initiated this, would never have crossed that line-even if he’d wanted to. And yes, he’d wanted to, but that was hardly the point.

“I want you,” Jolee whispered, squeezing him between her thighs in the chair, her breath hot through his mask, her mouth next to his ear. “I touched myself this morning in the shower, remembering last night.”

He made a small noise that, he had to admit, would probably be classified as a whimper by any objective observer.

“Do you want me?” she asked, leaning back in the chair, pressing her hands over his, mashing her breasts flat and then rubbing his palms over her nipples. They were hard little pebbles and Jolee moaned and rolled her hips at the sensation.

“Yeah,” he croaked, watching her pull her lower lip between her teeth, her eyes half-closing with pleasure. “I’m just…afraid.”

She stopped, eyes widening at his admission. He was glad the mask hid his flushed face.

“Afraid of what?”

“You.” His hands were moving on their own, kneading her flesh, watching her reaction.

He couldn’t help it. “This.”

“Why?”

He sighed. “It’s complicated.”

“Don’t let this come between us.” She reached for the edge of his mask, starting to lift it.

He grabbed her wrist, shaking his head. “Don’t.”

“What can I do to convince you that I want this?” Jolee frowned and then her eyes brightened as she slithered down between his legs, starting to work on his jeans. Silas groaned in protest, but his hips lifted when she yanked them down, freeing his cock for her mouth. He was scarred everywhere from the fire, even there, but she didn’t seem to notice, her eyes never leaving his. Just watching the hot pink trail of her tongue around the head of his cock was a delight, but the sensation went beyond pleasure and bordered on pain, making his thighs tense and quiver.

She lifted her head, kneeling up and rubbing his wet cock-head against her nipples. “How do I convince you that I want you?” she whispered, leaning in and kissing his mouth, her belly deliciously soft, pressing his cock up against his own, trapping him.

“That’s a good start.” He smiled.

“Wanna feel how wet I am for you?” she offered, guiding his hand down between her legs. Oh Christ, Silas thought as she nudged her panties aside and let him feel. The soft, wiry hair, the swollen lips, the way they parted for his finger as he delved inside, was enough to make him crazy, but after last night, he wanted more. He wanted to see her.

Jolee squealed when he shoved the plate of eggs and bacon aside, reaching down and grabbing her hips, pulling her up and sitting her squarely on the table. It was solid and could hold her weight-he was sure of it, he’d made it himself-and it was going to have to hold a lot more than that in a minute. He yanked her panties down and Jolee lifted willingly enough at his insistence, spreading her thighs for him in the early morning light spilling across the kitchen table.

“You’re beautiful.” He couldn’t help telling her as he took a seat in the chair again. The truth was, his knees didn’t want to hold him upright. And besides, this way he could lean in and feather kisses up the slender, silky expanse of her thighs, moving slowly toward the thing he wanted most. He made himself go slow and Jolee squirmed on the table, her pussy visibly swollen already in anticipation.

By the time her pubic hair was tickling his lips, she was begging him, pleading, the sound of her cries only making him go slower, savoring it more. He snaked his tongue up the groove of thigh, skipping across to the top of her cleft, hearing her moan, her head thrown back and thrashing on the table. Her hands kneaded her own breasts, her palms rubbing her nipples, her thighs thrown wide. Silas let himself taste her, sticky and wet, moving his tongue back and forth against the raised flesh of her clit. Jolee moaned and lifted her hips in encouragement.

“Please,” she whispered, reaching down to spread herself with her fingers, showing him, and he drank in the sight of her open for him like that. His cock throbbed at the thought of being inside of her and he grabbed it and squeezed as if he could send it a message- easy, slow down, would you wolf down a gourmet meal in two minutes? -but his cock didn’t want to hear it. It had been starving for too long.

His tongue slipped lower between her lips, trailing down to really taste her, musky and hot. He remembered how she’d rocked on him the night before, mashing her whole pussy against his face. Glancing up, he saw her eyes were closed, head back, and he decided to chance it, pulling his mask up-not off, just up enough so he could open his whole mouth over her pussy.

“Oh god!” Jolee rewarded him with a trembling arch, writhing on the table as Silas sucked at her little clit, swallowing the hot, tangy taste of her juices, letting them coat his throat and then going back for more. He couldn’t get enough of her, exploring her wet, swollen mound with his tongue and mouth and fingers, caught in a slick, pink labyrinth of flesh.

“Silas!” she gasped, rocking her hips, her toes beginning to curl. Just her saying his name that way, with the low, growly catch in it, filled his whole body with a blinding lust, but the words she followed it with sent him into overdrive. “Oh baby! Oh please, please, make me come all over your face!”

He fastened his mouth to her clit, working his tongue furiously, as eager for her orgasm as she was, holding desperately to his cock and trying to mentally reason with it. Not yet, not yet.

Soon, I promise. Jolee was coming, her breasts heaving, belly quivering, her pussy spasming against the wet lap of his tongue.

“Oh god, oh god, oh my god,” she moaned, rolling her hips from side to side. He couldn’t tell if she wanted more of his tongue or was trying to get away from it. “Silas, please, I want you.

I have to have you.”

Struggling to sit, she reached for him but he was already half-out of his chair, cock in hand. He’d forgotten his mask was pulled up and she looked at him in wonder, seeing his jaw, his mouth still wet. He reached to pull it down but she protested, grabbing his hand, shaking her head, sliding her little hand behind his neck and pulling him into a kiss.

Silas moaned into her mouth. She sucked at his tongue as if drawing the taste of herself from him, her hand moving to take hold of his cock and guide him inside. She was over-wet, slick and hot as melting butter, and he slid in easily, his balls resting against the hard edge of the table, burying himself deep. Jolee held onto him, wrapping her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck, her mouth never leaving his.

He fucked her. He fucked her without thought or reason, thrusting deep and hard and fast, his cock feeling every delicious ridge and twist and turn of her body as they rocked together, the table shaking under their weight. Jolee wouldn’t let him pull his mask down, keeping her mouth locked on his, their kiss hard and fierce and deeply probing, not unlike their fuck. Silas was past the point of caring, would probably have let her pull the whole damned thing off altogether in that moment, but thankfully she didn’t.