pleasure

"Pleasure me, darling," he said, his voice thick with lust, his eyes dark with desire. He guided me to him, his hands on my shoulders as he pushed me down to my knees, his length throbbing before me, a testament to his arousal. I hesitated for a moment, my heart racing, my mind spinning with the implications of what he was asking.

But the desire in his eyes, the need in his voice, it was too much to resist. I reached out, taking him in my hands, feeling the heat, the hardness of him, and I couldn't help but be in awe of the power he held, the control he had over me. I leaned forward, pressing my lips to the tip, tasting him, the salty tang of his arousal filling my senses.

I took him into my mouth, slowly at first, my movements tentative, unsure, but as I found my rhythm, I became bolder, taking more of him, sliding him deeper into my mouth. His hands found their way to my hair, his fingers tangling in the strands as he guided me, his hips moving in time with my movements. The sounds he made, the groans of pleasure that escaped his lips, only spurred me on, made me want to please him even more.

I took him deeper, my mouth and hands working together to bring him to the edge. I could feel the tension building in his body, the way his muscles tensedas he fought to maintain control. His breaths came in short, ragged gasps, each one a testament to the pleasure he was feeling. The salty taste of him on my tongue only fueled my desire to push him further, to bring him to the brink of ecstasy.

His grip on my hair tightened, and I could sense his restraint slipping away, his control fraying at the edges. I hollowed my cheeks, taking him as deep as I could, my tongue swirling around his length, and the groan that tore from his throat was primal, raw, a sound that sent a thrill through me. His hips bucked involuntarily, and I relaxed my throat, allowing him to slide even deeper.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still. The room was filled with the sounds of our labored breaths, the wet slide of my mouth over him, and the soft moans that escaped his lips. His pleasure was my pleasure, and I reveled in the power I held over him, in the way I could make him lose control with just the flick of my tongue.

Suddenly, he pulled me off him, his breath coming in harsh pants as he looked down at me with a mixture of lust and something deeper, something that sent a shiver of anticipation down my spine. His hands cupped my face, his touch surprisingly gentle as he lifted me to my feet.

"I need you," he whispered, his voice rough with desire. He kissed me again, his lips bruising against mine, and I could taste his desperation, his need for me. It was intoxicating, a heady rush that made me feel both powerful and completely at his mercy.

Without breaking the kiss, he guided me back to the bed, his hands roaming over my body, igniting every nerve, every inch of my skin with desire. When the back of my knees hit the edge of the mattress, he pushed me down gently, following me down until his body covered mine. The weight of him, the heat of his skin against mine, was almost overwhelming, and I arched into him, needing to feel him closer, needing to feel every inch of him.

He positioned himself between my thighs, his length pressing against my wetness, and I gasped at the sensation, my body trembling with anticipation. His eyes locked onto mine, and for a moment, everything else faded away. It was just the two of us, lost in the need to consume and be consumed.

Slowly, he began to push into me, his eyes never leaving mine as he filled me inch by inch. The stretch was intense, a mix of pleasure and a sweet ache that made me gasp. He moved with a deliberate, unhurried pace, as if savoring every second, every sensation. When he was fully seated inside me, he paused, his chest heaving as he fought to control himself.

"You're mine," he whispered, his voice low and possessive, a statement that sent a thrill of both fear and excitement through me. And then he began to move, his thrusts slow and deep, each one sending waves of pleasure through me that had me arching into him, my body craving more.

With each movement, the pleasure built, a steady crescendo that threatened to overwhelm me. I could feel myself spiraling towards the edge, my body trembling, my breath coming in short, desperate gasps. His hands gripped my hips, his pace quickening as he drove deeper into me, his control slipping as his own need for release grew.

The world around us faded, everything narrowing down to the feel of him inside me, the way our bodies moved together in a perfect, primal rhythm. My nails dug into his back, my legs wrapping around his waist as I held on, letting the pleasure take over, letting it drown me.

And then, with a final, powerful thrust, I shattered, the orgasm crashing over me like a tidal wave, my body convulsing around him as the pleasure consumed me. His name tore from my lips, a raw, desperate cry that filled the room, and a moment later, I felt him follow me over the edge, his body tensing, his grip on me tightening as he found his own release.

For a long moment, we lay there, tangled together, our bodies slick with sweat, our breaths mingling as we came down from the high. His weight was comforting, grounding, and I relished the feel of him against me, the way his heart pounded in time with mine.