I pull you forcefully by the wrist into my room and shut the door. We need no hesitations, no interruptions, not this time. Our need is too great. I slam you roughly against the door, noting with some satisfaction that as the air is forced from you, a look of hunger reaches your eyes. I close the space between us, pressing my chest to yours, agonizingly close to you, and yet still wanting more; skin on skin, the barrier of clothes an irritating obstruction that has to be removed. And I oblige, stepping backwards, quickly removing my shirt, noting with some delight your gaze fixated on my breasts, hidden from view by a black, lace bra. I relieve myself of this too, the cumbersome device dropping to the floor. You press forward, trying to touch, not content with simply watching, but I push you back. I slowly unzip my skirt, letting it drop, sliding down my stocking clad legs. You barely dare to breathe. Inch by inch I remove these too, until I'm left with a tiny shred of cotton hiding the last part of me from view. I pull you forward, yet dodge your kiss. I roughly drag your blouse off, popping several buttons as I do so, and quickly unhook your bra. I cannot suppress a shiver, my nipples harden, and I find it more and more difficult to focus on my task. But I endeavour. I pull down your jeans, barely hesitating for fear of losing all control. Now almost naked, I grab your slender wrist, nails leaving indents on the skin, and pull you over to the bed. Pushing you down, I climb on top, straddling your waist, and finally take the kiss I've sought. It wasn't gentle, like so many times before, but rough and fiercely passionate. Your pulse rate soars, as does mine, my nails digging deep into your neck. You can barely stifle a moan, and lean forwards, to deepen the kiss. Lips and tongues moving rapidly, locked in an impossibly close embrace, we fight for control, fight for dominance in the everlasting kiss. And then I pull away. I see the hurt, the confusion in your eyes. Until I hurriedly place kisses down your neck, biting it, leaving a mark, before reaching your bountiful chest. I move my mouth to your right breast, slowly drawing my tongue across its point, while pinching the left lightly with my thumb and forefinger. A sharp intake of breath accompanied my actions, I look up for any sign of discomfort from you and I find none. Pinching harder, I take the entire nipple into my mouth, sucking hard, eliciting a loud scream from your moistened lips. I continue my ministrations, and with my other hand, slowly travel across your stomach downwards, to the edge of your underwear. I quickly slip two fingers beneath, softly teasingly, dragging them the full length of your slit, before resting on your clit. I repeat the action, harder this time, the slight pressure only making you moan louder, and start to fight for breath. Harder next time, my fingers actually penetrate, copious amounts of fluid making this transition seamless. I slowly start thrusting them in and out, and moving my other hand from your chest, start slowly rubbing your clit in circular motions. As I thrust faster, I bite down on your nipple, causing yet another scream, and I furiously rub my fingers against your clit, noting with satisfaction the dramatic increase in fluid around your slit. So close to orgasm, I feel you tense, your muscles starting to contract against my thrusting fingers. I quickly bite down on your nipple, hard, the painful spike finally tipping you over the edge, before you collapse, shuddering, beneath me.