An appealingly alluring pair of eyes are scrutinizing my face when I awaken. Like , the Greek god is flawless—not like he just awoke from sleep. At this sight, I grin.
My life's best night was last night. We had more than simply romance, and I just that an incredible night isn't only characterized by having sex. We went to bed after our deep, steamy shower kisses. He put us under this duvet and me up in his loving arms. We snuggled up to each other, kissed each other , and then drifted off to a sound slumber. It was beautiful! The best night I ever had.
I felt different. I still feel different and special. As I gawk into his eyes this morning, I like number one. I feel like I own his heart already, or as if there is that possibility.
I can't explain the glee I am basking in right now or where it is coming from. Or why.
It is just naturally surging in me.
I pinch my hands to his chilled jaws, and I pull him for a deep, sweet morning kiss. I love to always go to bed the way I did last night every day and wake up like every single morning. How else can life be sweet if it is not this way?
He pulls away after a while. "You know I would kiss you the whole day if only that possible, beautiful, but we are getting late.” He leans in for another kiss, biting lower lip a little as he pulls away.
"We?" I implore, stunned at his words. I don't recall us making any plans for today at , unless my brain is still sleeping, which I doubt.
"Yes, we. You, baby," he pecks me again, "and I." Another peck!
Did I miss something last night? I don’t recall us discussing today’s plans, which is my face conforms to a real shock right now. I am lost. "Where are we going?" I , but he just strips the duvet roughly from me, exposing my beautiful bare . I am not bashful. We are in uniform anyway, and it is crazy how I feel so free us like this.
Before now, I would sheepishly be face-palming my face to conceal the rosiness when ogles me like this, or perhaps yanking the duvet to hide my bareness, but today my seems to be functioning contrarily. He is turning me on, yes, but I adore it, and I not ashamed to divulge just how much I relish his effects on me. He has seen single part of me; more mesmerizing is how he doesn't grow bored of adoring like this every single chance he gets. I still curse myself for not being able to tell all about what he meant to me last night.
"Do you like what you see?" I tease, pulling him to sit on the bed, and I crouch on my between his legs, sloping my hands to massage his six-pack.
"I would be a half-man or a ridiculous dumbass if I didn't like these curves and your ass. And oh, this," he pinches my nipples slightly, making me almost leap.
"Then, why don't you want to..."
"Touch you?" I wink to ascertain his point. "You haven't permitted me, baby."
Permit? Since when did he need my permission to fuck me? All the same, it sounds that he can refrain himself until I permit him.
I lick my lips.
"And me, baby? Do I also require your consent to touch you, or," I thrust my right across his left thigh, encompassing him between my legs and running my index seductively from his lips down his belly, "fuck you?" I watch the movement of Adam's apple up and down as he swallows hard at my gesticulations.
I can just be anything to him, you know. He weirdly turns me into something else, and
I love it. I feel possessed with desires already.
"No, Ellie!" Damian's voice breaks through the air, firm yet filled with desire. "You 't need to ask to take control. If you want..."
I move my fingers over his hard-on, feeling him shudder under my touch. His eyes closed briefly, savoring the sensation. He bites his lip, holding back a groan, I bite mine, fighting the urge to giggle at the power I have over him.
I wrap my hand around his erection, feeling its heat and weight. Gently, I stroked him, pressing my chest against his, my nipples grazing his lips. His eyes snap . He tries to capture my nipples with his mouth, but I playfully pull away, as his eyes widen with desire.
"You are getting quite naughty, aren't you?" His voice is a mix of cool restraint and desire, sending a wave of heat through me. My body responds, throbbing with , as his words melt me down to my core.
"Who taught me this, huh?" I implore, my eyes becoming too bulky with lust. I want take him now. I want to feel my walls clenching tight around his hard, huge meat as thrusts in deeper and rougher, or deeper and gentler. Either way, he will just be as always.
I gently nudge him to lie back, guiding him until he is reclined on his back, his body and eager beneath me. With a confident stride, I straddle him, settling into atop his thighs—a perfect fit that sends a thrill of anticipation coursing me. My hand continues its rhythmic stroking of his shaft, the familiar weight texture feeling so right in my grasp while filling him with pleasure.
As I hover over him, I feel a surge of power and desire, knowing that I hold the reins pleasure in my hands. His breath comes in shallow gasps, his eyes locked on mine an intensity that fuels the fire between us. With each stroke, I can feel him harder beneath my touch, responding to my every movement with a primal that mirrors my own.
"You have become a naughty student then, because it is the teacher who should be in control." He growls, his arms travelling to my nipples, giving them each satisfying pinch and squeeze.