My Control Read Free Page A

closes one hand around the package, the other wrapping my shaft. Her heavy lidded stare meets mine, desire radiating from its depths, and she leans forward, delivering a seductive lick to the head of my cock, followed by a tantalizingly sensual swirl around the width. The sensation that follows rocks my body. It’s delicious. She’s delicious, but there is a coldness in my mind and body, an awakening that I don’t want to feel. A feeling that that I didn’t have when she was pressed close to me. I do not know what to make of that feeling, when avoiding that kind of intimacy has been a hard and fast rule for me. A way to ensure I do not foolishly expose weakness by falling for the façade of love and romance
    She tears open the condom but doesn’t put it on me, instead drawing me into her mouth with a gentle suction that has me thickening, but there is simply no escaping the growing iciness in my body and mind that defies the heat in my blood, the fact that I want her close to me, next to me, touching me everywhere, anywhere. That’s when my mind shuts down. That’s when I’m free from the hell clawing at my chest.
    My fingers close on her shoulders, holding her back before I lose myself in the primitive need that is orgasm. “Not now,” I command, leaving no room for negotiation. “Later.” Confusion flashes on her face, then is quickly banked. Before reassuring her that she pleases me, I first attend to the necessities, claiming the condom and rolling it down the thickness of my erection. Then, and only then, when I am safe to fully act on my words, do I pull her to her feet and against me. “I want you wet and hot and tight around me when I come.”
    The rigidity of her body softens instantly, and she breathes out, “Yes,” as her hand flattens on my chest.
    I tangle my fingers in her hair, craving a taste of her. I drag her mouth to mine, though kissing, like uncontrolled, untamed touching, is an intimacy that I rarely indulge. But I indulge now, claiming her mouth while one of my hands cups her backside. I lift her from the ground, and she reads my silent command, obediently wrapping her legs around my waist.
    I let go of her hair, both hands splayed on the soft, naked expanse of her slender back. “Hold onto my neck,” I order, impatiently shifting our bodies and sliding my cock inside the slick, wet heat of her sex, pushing into her. Then I grit my teeth as she slowly eases down my length until she has all of me.
    Our mouths are close, our breathing playing together in a soft even harmony, and what passes between us without words, without even looking at each other, is more unfamiliar ground. It crawls inside me, burrowing deep, raw and brutally demanding, cutting through my walls, ignoring my rejection of all that makes me feel things that I don’t want to understand. Ready to feel the sway of our bodies, I inch back enough to let her see my gaze rake over her naked breasts, her tight little nipples. But I make sure my gaze is locked with hers when I lift her and pull her down against me, savoring the way she gasps for me, the way she arches forward in a full body reaction. I shift us, my hands sliding under her backside, thrusting deeper, and she pants this time, her fingers digging into my shoulders, fingernails pressing into my skin in sweet, blissful cuts.
    My arm shackles her waist, holding her close, and she buries her face in my neck, using me as the leverage to lift and push, lift and push against my pumping, the only sound in the room is the rasps of our breathing. And I revel in the way her weight is heavy on my body, burning my thighs, the way her soft curves meld to mine. My coldness is consumed by her heat. There’s no room for anything but her and me, and the craving for satisfaction. There is no guilt, no heartache, no thinking. Just her soft moans, her panting. Her pleasure.
    We build into a faster pace, a frenzy of need, the thrum of desire turning into a pounding of our bodies