Джей Крауновер - Built

I think I screamed. I probably screamed because he chuckled against my throbbing center and continued his overwhelming stimulation. I was pulling on his hair, urging him closer and closer even though he was invading all my private places in the most devastating ways possible. He added another finger to the wetness he was coaxing out of me and the gentle nip of teeth. It had my hips arching up off the step I was sitting on and my legs quaking where they rested next to his head. There wasn’t any place to hide from him or the feelings and emotions he had coursing through me. It was a lot to process and I was shocked that I wanted more. I was stunned when the words flew out of my mouth between pants and his name. I asked him to destroy me, to own me, to push me over the edge and leave me shattered in the aftermath. I didn’t use those words exactly, but when I told him “more,” and “deeper,” and “harder,” I think he understood the message.

Suddenly he had my hips in his hands and was lifting them up to his face. The sheer strength this required made me melt, and when he barked at me to touch myself right before his tongue filled up the empty space his fingers had left, I thought I was going to evaporate into nothing. He was fucking me with his mouth, his hands were hard on my skin, leaving marks I knew I would stare at with a mixture of awe and pride in the morning, and I was letting my own fingers drift over that intense spot of pleasure with a deftness I had never, ever known myself to have. The thought of all the times I had done this to myself while thinking of him, while imagining him doing this very thing to me, was enough to have me convulsing and enough to have pleasure rushing across my fingers and flooding his quick tongue with desire. He groaned deep in his chest, a heavy rumble of satisfaction, and it was so hot. We were so hot and I couldn’t believe it. There was nothing cold or icy crawling up my spine, just languid satisfaction and the need to make him feel as good as I felt.

He let my legs fall limply to his sides and bent forward to place a kiss right above my belly button. I sighed at the abrasion of his beard against my skin there and shivered from the wet kiss of what was left of my orgasm where it clung to him and now to me as well. It was sexy as hell and I wanted to touch his lips where they smirked and shined at me.

“Flawless.” I wasn’t sure what to say to that, so I decided not to say anything at all.

The fabric of my skirt was still all twisted around my waist and I wanted it gone, so I sat up and started to wiggle out of it. Once it was in a heap on the stairs at my feet and I was totally naked, I finally managed to find some composure, rose to my feet, and held out a hand that he immediately clasped in his own.

“You know how amazing my bedroom is since you built it. We might as well put it to use.”

He lifted an eyebrow at me and rose to his feet. The bulge in his pants was unmistakable and so was the hungry look in his eyes. Walking buck-ass naked in front of any man, but especially a man as confident and secure in who he was as this one was, would typically rank up there with all of my worst nightmares, but there was something heady in the air around us, something languid inside of me after all of his wonderful, wild words, that made me feel powerful and in control in a totally different way than I normally was.

Thankfully my room wasn’t a tornado of discarded clothing and scattered shoes like it usually was after I got ready for work. I hit the light by the bedside and turned to face the mountain of delectable man that had followed me into the room. He was already pulling his shirt off and stripping out of the white tank top he had on underneath. My fingertips tingled with the desire to trace the endless miles of ink that covered his chest and my mouth watered when his muscles rippled and flexed as he pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and tossed it on the unmade bed over my shoulder. It was my turn to lift an eyebrow and he just shrugged.

“We’re gonna need it later, and if I work things right, my pants aren’t going to be on hand.”

He made me laugh. He made me do a lot of things I didn’t typically do, and for the second time in my life I kissed a boy. I took charge, stepped into him so that our bare chests pressed together, and wrapped my arms around his shoulders so I could kiss him. He rested his hands on my hips and didn’t push, didn’t rush me, just let me lean into him and taste and explore. It was intoxicating and I just wanted to taste him and feel him pressed against me forever. I pulled back when my lungs felt like they were going to burst, but since I was being bold, owning the confidence that he somehow siphoned into me, I reached for his belt and started working on getting him as naked as I was.

“The bed is right there and you said clothing wasn’t optional if I picked option number two, so you need to catch up, Zeb.”

He laughed and it sounded a little strained as he took a step back from my eager fingers so he could kick off his heavy boots and drop his pants and boxer shorts in a pile on the floor. His cock was hard and pointed up at his washboard belly as he moved back toward me. The sight of all that male perfection made my mouth water and I couldn’t stop myself from licking my lips. He groaned when he watched the action and grabbed his substantial erection in his fist and gave it a couple pumps.

“I’ve never wanted anyone so badly that it hurt, Say. Only you.”

I put a hand on his chest and twisted so that I could guide him down on the edge of the bed as he reached for me. I put my hands on his shoulders once he was sitting with his legs spread and leaned forward so I could kiss him again.

“I don’t want to make you hurt. I’ve been trying to avoid that from the start.”

It was my turn to fall on my knees before him, a position that usually made me unsure and anxious, but before this man made me feel beautiful and strong.

“Not gonna last very long with you naked and your mouth on me.” His voice was raspy as his hands wrapped the long strands of my hair through his fingers.

I breathed out and his dick twitched in response. I put my hands on his rock-hard thighs and looked up at him from under my lashes. “I just want a taste, Zeb.”

His jaw locked and his skin flushed. “Whatever you want, Sayer.”

I just wanted him in all the different, lurid ways I had been dreaming about since I’d first met him. I took a deep breath because again this kind of intimacy normally freaked me out and I generally treated it as a chore. With that turgid, restless erection right in my face, twitching and moving the closer I got, there was no room for anything but anticipation and willingness. Nothing I did with Zeb or for Zeb felt like something I had to do. I wanted to do it and I wanted to do it over and over again.

I dragged my tongue along the throbbing vein that ran along the underside of his cock and was rewarded with a deep groan. He was salty and, like all of him, somehow woodsy and earthy. When I reached the plump head he was already leaking out his pleasure and I swirled my tongue around it with a delicate twist. His hands got harder in my hair and pulled me farther down his impressive length. I complied with his silent command and wrapped my fist around the base of the straining erection. His hips shifted on the bed and I heard his breathing turn ragged as I sucked and pulled him farther and farther into my mouth.

He muttered my name and I couldn’t recall ever hearing anything sound as sweet. The feeling of being in control of such a big man, of owning the things that were happening to him, the knowledge that I was the one in charge of his pleasure, was turning me on all over again. I wanted him and the fact that he wanted me just as badly, the fact that I could feel it and taste it, burst across my tongue and did more to defrost the parts deep down inside of me that I thought would never warm up.