Now it was his turn to strip and she never took her eyes away from him, not as he yanked off the tie, undid his buttons, stripped off his shirt, or as he skimmed down his pants.

There was no artful tease. No stage moves or strip show timing. He was a man in need. A man who was finally going to fuck her.

He climbed over her and straddled her waist, his knees gripping her, his rock-hard cock hitting the soft flesh of her belly, the blunt head nudging the silk fabric that held her hands in place. She wondered briefly where the condom was. He was down to his birthday suit, after all. She didn’t really see where he could be hiding it. And she didn’t intend to let him ride her bareback.

“Nate? Do you have a—”

He cut her off. “Lift your wrists above your breasts. Lift them up here,” he said, tapping her cleavage, “So you can squeeze your tits together.”

She did as instructed, her clasped hands scrunched by the side of her face, as her elbows squeezed her breasts.

He dipped his hand between her legs, and she cried out. At last, he was touching her. She needed it so badly, needed him. He slid his fingers between her slick heat, up, down, up, down, building speed.

Suddenly, he stopped, and his fingers were on her breasts, sliding the wetness across her cleavage.

Holy shit. It hit her fully what he was about to do. He must have seen the moment of recognition in her eyes.

“You wanted me to come, didn’t you?“

She bit her lip, nodding.

“You still want me to?”

“Yes. God, yes.”

“Good. Because I’m fucking dying to,” he said, and thrust his hard cock between the tunnel of her breasts. His eyes closed in pleasure, his lips fell open, and he pumped. He fucked her breasts as her bound wrists held them in place, his dick sliding between the slickness he’d used to pave the way.

She watched, mesmerized as he moved on her, her mouth watering with each upstroke, each view of the shaft that she wanted to suck. She licked her lips.

“You want to suck me off, don’t you?” he said roughly.

“Yes.”

“You want me to be fucking your pretty little mouth right now?”

“Yes. God yes,” she said.

Another stroke. Another pump. “You want to taste me coming?”

“Yes, please.”

“I want that too,” he said, panting as he thrust harder, faster. His jaw twitched. His breathing grew erratic. “But right now, I am in motherfucking love with your perfect tits, and I don’t want to be anyplace else.”

“Then fuck me harder,” she said, her voice strong, guiding him on. She wasn’t going to just lie here. She was going to have some fun too. She was going to be the woman she loved being. Dirty and direct.

“You like that, don’t you?” he said, his lips curving in a grin as he thrust.