I kissed him ravenously, opened mouths, our tongues twisting around each other and flicking my own tongue against the roof of his mouth.
When we would withdraw slightly to catch our breaths, he would suck on my tongue or I would bite his lower lip.
I kissed him as though it would be the last time I would kiss him like this, and it was, but only I knew this just yet.
I then lowered my head and pressed the tip of my tongue near his collar bone at the bottom of his neck and licked all the way up to the back of his ear before nibbling on his ear lobe
and breathing a deep moan in his ear. His response was delicious. He groaned back and pushed his hips up while bringing mine down so that his cock would reach deeper inside me.
I so enjoyed giving him pleasure.
I leaned back, so he could see all of me. He watched me, his eyes filled with lust at the sight of my lean body, bouncing breast, hair wild, lips parted, and flushed face.
I pushed my hands down on his chest and levered my hips up and down to ride his cock.
His eyes would lock with mine and he would just watch my face, enjoying the fact I was receiving so much satisfaction from him while I was also relishing him with pleasure.
I cupped one hand around his face and brought my hand lower so it grabbed around his throat just for a moment so I could deepen our eye contact to tell him that I wanted nothing more to than
to provide him with pleasure. Just him. Only him. To tell him at this moment I am his possession, and he could do with me whatever he liked.
I hated him looking at me. I knew he could see everything.
He could see the arousal on my face as well as every imperfection, not just what appeared physically but also the insecurities, anxieties, and the desperation that plagued my mind.
He watched it all. But I also loved how he watched me because it made me feel both sexy and vulnerable; you saw and knew every part of me, and you longed for it.
However, what he did not see was the love, as I did not want him to see it. Instead, I disguised it with lust.
Perhaps though I was naive to think that I had hidden it well, maybe he had known the entire time but had let it stay unspoken between us.
Knowing it was too painful to bring to the surface or maybe because if it were spoken still nothing would change.
I wondered how he could stare so deeply at me with such desire, lust, and affection but not love me back.