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His heart hammered as he began to thrust into her. He circled his hips to tease her clit. Hers urged him to quicken his languid thrusts. He raised his head, amused, ‘You think to command me?’ He punctured each of his word with a sensual roll of his hips, instilling the point that he was very much in charge of their mutual pleasure. ‘Sascha.’ He froze when she squeezed him. Beads of sweat collected on his forehead, trying to refrain from slamming into her and losing his seed all too quickly. God, nothing felt this good, nothing. But he still painstakingly and slowly removed himself out to the crown before slowly plunging into her heat. ‘Sascha,’ her nails scored his back, her pussy still squeezing his cock gloriously. His deep thrusts never faltered. Her heels dug into the back of his thighs, her hips rocking impatiently, demanding him to hurry, every stroke was delicious, sending a bolt of blinding sensation through her, and she just wanted—needed—more. She panted, ‘Sascha. I. I didn’t reply, partly because it went without saying but mostly because my mouth was cotton-dry from you seemingly reading my mind in that moment. Tension now filled the empty room, yet we were still the only two bodies there, mere inches between us, still fixated on the rain lashing down outside. All I wanted to do was turn and kiss you. Take you into arms and show you how I felt, how long I had wanted you and how I knew that you felt the same. I fought the urge to lift you up and carry you to the bar, your legs wrapped around my waist, pressed against each other, feeling the heat and feeding off one another’s passion. I could think of nothing else but breathing in the heady mix of that light perfume and the deeper, more sensual scent of your own, letting it intoxicate me and cloud my judgment, an appetiser arousing my senses and exciting my palate. I couldn’t help but think of us hurriedly tearing at your jeans and knickers together, a frenzied stripping of clothes as you perched.
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