Too Hot to Wait
Deborah’s Valentine’s Day Release: Too Hot to Wait
The clock ticked closer to 8 p.m., and Deborah’s body was already on fire. Valentine’s Day had always been her favorite—red roses, candlelight, and the promise of raw, uninhibited passion. Tonight, her lover was due any minute, but the throbbing ache between her thighs had grown unbearable. Every thought of his hands, his mouth, his thick cock sliding into her made her clit pulse with need. She couldn’t wait. Not tonight.
Deborah slipped into her bedroom, the soft glow of red LED candles bathing the room in a sultry crimson hue. She wore nothing but a sheer black lace teddy that hugged her full curves, the fabric already damp from her arousal. Lying back on the silk sheets, she spread her legs wide, letting one hand trail down her stomach while the other teased her hardened nipples through the lace. A soft moan escaped her lips as her fingers found her swollen clit, circling slowly at first, then faster, building the delicious pressure she craved.
Her hips rocked against her hand, breath coming in short gasps. She imagined him walking through the door, seeing her like this—legs spread, fingers buried deep inside her slick pussy, chasing the orgasm she could no longer deny. The fantasy pushed her closer. “Fuck… yes…” she whimpered, plunging two fingers inside herself, curling them against that perfect spot. Her other hand rubbed frantic circles over her clit. She was so close, teetering right on the edge.
Just as the first powerful wave crashed through her, the bedroom door swung open.
There he stood—her Valentine—still holding the bouquet of red roses, eyes wide with lust as he watched Deborah’s body arch off the bed. Her back bowed, thighs trembling, a loud, throaty cry tearing from her throat as she came hard, juices coating her fingers, pussy clenching rhythmically around them. She locked eyes with him mid-orgasm, too far gone to stop, and the sight of him watching only made it more intense.
He dropped the roses. In three long strides he was on the bed, shedding his jacket as he went. “You couldn’t wait for me, baby?” he growled, voice thick with desire. Before she could answer, his mouth crashed down on hers in a bruising kiss. Deborah moaned into it, still shaking from her climax, her hands immediately reaching for his belt.
He didn’t bother undressing fully. He yanked his pants down just enough, his cock springing free—hard, thick, and already leaking. Deborah spread her legs wider, guiding him to her dripping entrance. “Fuck me,” she begged, voice hoarse. “Now.”
He thrust into her in one deep stroke, burying himself to the hilt. Deborah cried out, nails digging into his shoulders as he filled her completely. No slow build-up, no teasing—just raw, urgent fucking. The bed creaked under them as he pounded into her, each thrust driving her back into the mattress. Her recent orgasm had left her hypersensitive; every stroke sent electric jolts through her core.
“You feel so fucking good,” he groaned against her neck, biting down lightly. “Coming all over my cock like the needy little slut you are.” Deborah’s response was a string of moans and curses, her hips meeting his with equal force. She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him deeper, chasing the next high that was already building fast.
They fucked like they were starved for each other—hard, fast, desperate. His hand found her clit again, rubbing in tight circles while he slammed into her. It didn’t take long. Deborah shattered a second time, her pussy spasming around his cock, milking him as she screamed his name. Moments later he followed, burying himself deep and coming with a guttural groan, flooding her with heat.
They collapsed together, sweaty and breathless, hearts pounding in sync. After a long moment, he kissed her softly, brushing damp hair from her face. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Deborah,” he murmured with a wicked grin. She laughed, low and satisfied. “Best one yet.”