Pushing Her Buttons Read Online Free PDF

experienced for ages.
    It seemed like I came forever.
    When I finished, when I was sane and within my skin once more, he lifted me up and kissed me sweetly. Then he lowered me to the carpet, a thick, rich bed. He settled beside me and edged closer. I thought he meant to kiss me again, perhaps hop on top and begin riding right away, but he didn’t. He took my nipple in his mouth and, through the lace, sucked. I came again. But it was just a little one. An aftershock.
    He grinned. “Wait here.” He levered himself up and before I could respond, bounded off to the bedroom.
    Wait here? As though I could move. I was a bowl of quivering Jell-O. A flan.
    He was back in a flash with a foil packet.
    Ah hell. That thought had never even crossed my mind. Thank God he was prepared.
    He sat on the sofa and gestured to me. “Come here.”
    I disliked being commanded so but he had something I wanted. I saw it there, thrusting against gray flannel, a fat insistent cock. Even its ridge was pronounced.
    I wanted it. I wanted it a lot. So I rolled over onto my knees and crawled the short distance to the couch. I wedged myself between his legs. I wanted to give him what he’d given me. I wanted to give as good as I’d gotten.
    He watched me with feral eyes. Passion blazed there but it was banked. His fingers were tightly fisted. He was holding back. He wanted me to make the first move in this, our next sortie.
    So I knelt between his thick thighs with his warmth surrounding me, his strength infusing me, and met his gaze. “Take it off.”
    “What?” He blinked innocently.
    Oh. So he wanted to play? I’d show him. I’d show him I could play. “The sweatshirt. Take it off.”
    He responded so quickly I almost laughed. But I didn’t. Because what he revealed stole all reason. A broad, ridged expanse of tanned muscle sprinkled with a light dusting of sable hair. Oh. My mouth watered. I ached to touch him.
    So I did. I explored his chest with my mouth and cheek. I rubbed against him like a cat until he arched his hips instinctively and nudged me with that rigid cock. I let my lips trail to a nipple and sucked. He hissed through his teeth. Then I lapped and nipped my way down his chest to his belly.
    When I diddled his bellybutton, he groaned. I followed the waistband of his sweats from one side to the other with my tongue then covered the encased head of his cock with my mouth and blew out a hot breath.
    He nearly jumped out of his skin. “Jesus! What are you waiting for?”
    I caught his gaze and grinned. “Don’t you know?”
    He stared at me, befuddled and flustered and horny as hell. Then he lifted his hips and yanked off his sweats. His cock, delicious and demanding, bobbled free. “Please. Dear God. Please.”
    My mouth was on him before the words were out. And my heavens, he was exquisite. Soft as silk and smooth as satin. Hard as stone and throbbing and fragrant. I wanted to gobble him up. So I did. I nibbled and sucked at the tip of his cock, delighting in that sweet single drop of cum that, more than anything, stated his readiness.
    But I didn’t let him come. Not yet. I wanted to explore that pole, as long and steely and firm as it was. I stroked him and teased him and made him plead.
    And then when I was ready, when he was nearly mad with wanting, I crawled up onto his lap, astride him, and rubbed my wet cunt against his cock. His heat against my clit made me shiver. As I undulated against his hardness, I found the crook of his neck—my favorite place on a man—and I feasted.
    I found a spot that made him clench and hiss. A raw, desperate sound came from his throat.
    “Now.” His fingers trembled as he fumbled for the condom, ripped it out of the pouch and unrolled it onto his length. “Oh. Now. Now.” He pinned me with a desperate look. “Are you ready? Please tell me you’re ready.”
    In response, I lifted up, positioned him against the simmering mouth of my cunt and impaled myself. On him.
    And oh.
    Oh.
    He