My back hits the wall, and Pacer pulls my sweater over my head. He kicks the door shut behind him, and it feels as if a surge of electricity has passed through my entire body. Dropping my bag, it lands with a thud.
Oh Jesus. His tongue. When it hits my tongue, it’s lights up a pathway that sends jolts directly to my pussy.
I want to pull myself together, but my body is screaming to have him inside me, dominating me. My mind too has fallen victim to Pacer and is no longer listening to anything other than my need to fuck the hell out of him.
Dropping my hands from behind his neck, I delicately start to unclasp each of the buttons on his shirt, but he gets impatient and rips the rest with one hand.
I giggle. My skin soaks up his breath every time he presses his lips against me. There’s just one more layer of clothes before our skin is against one another. Fuck you, winter, and your need for layers of clothing!
Thank God he moves his hand under my ass. My leg muscles weren’t doing the job of holding me up like they were supposed to. His fingers brush past my sex. It’s too much.
I flip open the button on my zipper as a hint. He follows the direction easily and puts me down for a moment to rip my jeans down past my thighs. Finally, I feel the smoothness of his leather gloves against my bare skin. It’s as delicious as I’ve been imaging for days. My head tips back in pure ecstasy.
Cold, soft, foreign—it makes me yearn for more. I need all of that leather within me.
As the leather leaves my clit and travels down my leg, I groan out of an equal amount of frustration and impatience, but oh-so-fucking turned on.
Dipping each foot that he lifts, he pulls my ankle boots off and slides my jeans all the way down. His movements are delicate with the right amount of dominance. His lips trail all the way up my leg again. He gets to the inside of my thigh and he pushes his face against my skin, and inhales loudly. I look down as his eyes close, taking me all in. It makes me feel so sexy that he loves my smell.
As he moves farther up, he gets to the gap between my legs. Jostling his nose up against my underwear, he inhales again.
Oh my God, I feel leather on my clit and start seeing stars. The coldness catches me by surprise but that feeling is quickly taken over by a desire for more. My hips grind against his hand. I need him in there. Now!
He growls a deep groan and he stands up and shoves me back against the wall as his tongue practically hits the back of my throat.
Oh. My. God.
His hands find mine, and he takes my wrists and brings them up above my head, securing them there with one strong, leather-gloved grip.
His other hand slides down my body, pulling my bra down and popping my hardened nipples from my bra as they pass. His lips leave mine as they trail down to my chest. He sucks on the first nipple, and a moan escapes me. When he cups the bottom of my second breast and finds my other nipple with his tongue, I moan even loader. His leather glove slides past my stomach and slips into my underwear. I’m up on tippy-toes, my pelvis naturally tilting, my entire body pleading to have his leather finger inside me. I need that cold sensation to hit me inside. I want to warm it with my internal walls. I want it to warm me with friction. I can only imagine how incredible that will feel.
His dark brown eyes are back on mine and he watches me while his finger rolls in circles around my clit. He pulls his hand from my underwear and puts a finger into his mouth. I think he’s being sexy, until he bites down and I realise that he’s taking his glove off.
Oh no you don’t! I want that glove.
“Keep it on,” I murmur between breaths.
His smirk is sexy as hell. God knows what he must be thinking about my sudden leather fetish, but I don’t give a fuck right now. I want his gloved finger in me. Right fucking now!
His finger quickly finds its way back into my panties and my legs automatically spread for him. His finger enters, the leather gently catching against my entrance as he slides in. The leather feels cold against me but the smoothness of it feels heavenly. His tongue enters my mouth in one swift motion—anything beyond that has no bearing.
It’s Pacer’s tongue and Pacer’s leather gloved finger … inside me … and that’s all that matters.
My head drains of blood and my legs almost give out, but Pacer’s grip underneath me holds me up perfectly. He begins rocking his palm back and forth, his finger deep within me. Leather slides across my clit when his palm passes it, and I cry out louder again. The leather occasionally catches my skin when it rubs and causes an exquisite friction when it slides —I’ve never felt anything like it.
He squeezes against my upstretched wrists with his other hand, almost demanding me to stay still. But I don’t think I can. I feel dizzy, and all I’m seeing is stars.
I kiss him harder to avoid losing all control over my body. His lips leave mine and he buries into my neck, sucking and biting at my skin.
The sensations that spill out across my body are all too much to contain, and I cry out as the stars are no longer stars, they’re one big wash of bright, white light. My pussy clamps down hard on the leather finger inside me, and my pelvis rocks against the rhythm of his palm.
My ass cheeks clench. I moan and pant, and groan, and make sounds I never knew I had in me as my orgasm becomes overwhelming.
My arms slip from above, but he forces them back up with one hand as his finger drives in and out harder and faster.
Just when I thought my climax was subsiding, a second wash of heat floods my head.
Holy sweet baby Jesus and all things pure in the world … Fuck you and fuck everything. If this is bad, then I’ll take hell.
“That’s it, honeybee. Come all over my glove, you fucking sexy bitch,” he coos into my neck.
It’s too much. I can’t even. My legs shudder and he lifts me with his cupped hand. I cry out so loud I swear my voice box is about to break.
His finger slows when he’s satisfied that he’s done his job. My breathing regulates … almost. Well, I’m not panting, at least.
Slowly opening my eyes, I find Pacer staring, watching me. I take a deep breath and smile sheepishly. If that’s what he does to me with his finger, I can’t imagine what his python is going to do.
“Wow,” I repeat his words after our first kiss.
He grin is so wide it’s infectious. I can’t help but chuckle.
His finger slowly slips out of me. He raises it to his mouth and sucks back.
What the hell have I been missing out on? No guys like this actually exist. I’ve heard about men like Pacer. He’s that one amazingly hot specimen of a man who also happens to be a magician. They cast some magical spell over you with the touch of their finger … their leather finger. They’re also an urban myth. The men I have been with have all confirmed this fantasy wasn’t real … until Pacer.
His hold finally loosens on my upstretched hands, and they fall to his shoulders and slide down his chest. His button-less shirt is still on. That situation needs to change immediately, so I slide it past his shoulders. The detailed ink covering his body is even more beautiful than the photographs I’ve studied for the past week. I hope he never finds out how obsessed I may be with him. That fleeting thought reminds me to take down the wall of photos I have, in case he makes and impromptu visit to my place.
I smooth his shirt down his arms, slowly running it over his rolling muscles. My fingertips roll across the ridges with pure delight.
He pulls back from the wall and carries me down a narrow hallway. We kiss as he carries me, and I notice the house smells different —new and un-lived in. His shoes echo across the hard floor. It doesn’t sound like the hollow of wood though.
My mouth doesn’t leave his for a single second. He’s so familiar with this house, he finds the way around without a single break in our kiss.