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By *am1e31 OP Man
4 hours ago
Westgate |
Continuing on from part 2...
The air in the hallway was thick with a frantic, mutual hunger. Marcus’s hands were everywhere. The refined, composed man from the car was gone, replaced by someone driven by a raw, singular focus.
He didn't wait for me to lead the way. His fingers hooked into the hem of my shirt, tugging it upward with a desperate haste that mirrored my own. I was scrabbling at the buttons of his top, my movements clumsy and rushed because the need for skin-on-skin contact had become a physical ache. We were a tangle of limbs and discarded fabric, the cool air of the entryway hitting my chest only to be immediately replaced by the heat of his body. We weren't just undressing; we were shedding the outside world, trying to claw our way back to the intensity of Friday night.
The distance to the bedroom felt like a marathon we weren't ready to run. Marcus shifted his grip, his hands sliding down to my hips to guide me back until the backs of my heels hit the bottom step of the staircase. He pressed me down, and I sank onto the carpeted wood, breathless and looking up at him. I felt helpless in the best way possible. What really did he have in store for me?
He didn't hesitate. Dropping to his knees between my legs, he looked at me with a passionate fury I hadn't seen yet, a look that said he wasn't just participating; he was devouring. When he took me into his mouth, the air left my lungs in a sharp, jagged gasp.
It was visceral. The wet heat, the sound of him slurping and gagging as he took as much of me as he could, was almost too much to handle. He coated me in saliva, his tongue working with a rhythmic, desperate intensity that made my hips jerk involuntarily. It was a sensory overload, the feeling of his hair between my fingers as I gripped his head, the friction, and the sheer, unbridled hunger of his movements. It was unbearable in the best possible way.
I knew if I stayed on that step for another minute, the night would end right there in the hallway. I needed more. I needed him.
"To bed with you!" I commanded, my voice a playful, strained rasp. I reached down, gently but firmly tugging him upward.
As I began to lead him up the stairs, the frantic energy shifted into something more profound. Instinctively, I reached my hand out behind me without looking. I felt his fingers slide between mine, his palm pressing firmly against mine in a tight, grounding squeeze. It was a quiet, tender moment of connection that cut through the lust, making the heat in my chest feel like something much heavier than just desire.
Hand in hand, we moved toward the bedroom, the weight of the night finally settling into something truly incredible. |
