Baby Oil Bad Boy

The fact that she'd whispered those words across the kitchen made him smile; they were the only two people in the house. He sauntered over to her, smooth as silk, and roughly pinned Sarah's body against the kitchen counter. She gasped, but smiled as his hands seized her wrists and his warm, firm body pressed into her.

"You know," he said quietly. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about you."

His voice was like honey, it made her cheeks flush just hearing him speak like that. She could feel the bulge in his jeans pressing against her abdomen. Sarah nibbled her bottom lip and pretended that she wasn't already aching for round two.

"I was so hard in the shower."

Their mouths collided in passionate press of hot, soft flesh. Their tongues twirled together, stroking each others' in a lust-fuelled fervour. By the time they came up for air, Sarah was panting and felt lightheaded.

"Dom," she whispered breathlessly, "you're such a bad boy!"

"And you're my dirty girl. I'd say that makes us a perfect match."

His hands tightened on her wrists as she felt an involuntary flutter of anxious pleasure prick her skin. What Dom could feel was her pulse; her heart was racing.

"I was thinking that after you finish chopping up that pineapple, you could give me the guided tour to your bedroom. I'm dying to get you back into bed." He placed a kiss on her cheek and whispered quietly, "I wonder if I could make you scream for mercy."

Sarah leaned back and gazed into his big, steel-blue eyes. She licked at her dry lips and after taking a moment to arrange the words she wanted to say, replied, "Fuck the pineapple. Let's go."