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London fights against my mouth, wanting to move her hips, but I hold her down with a forearm across her hips. “My pace. My rules.”
“Need you, please!”
My reply is a smack to her inner thigh and a quick flick to her clit. Then another. Taking the throbbing bundle of nerves between my teeth, I slip a single finger inside to the second knuckle. She’s so fucking tight, walls gripping as they pulse—try to pull me in deeper.
Her innocence is there against me, and I don’t want to break it. Not with my hands.
That treasure belongs to my dick.
“I want to fuck you,” I grunt against her clit, and she claws at the sheets. “My cock aches to be inside you. To claim you.” At my words, London’s hooded eyes meet mine, her panting breaths accentuating the heaviness in her breasts. Her hard nipples and the slight sheen of perspiration that covers her skin.
She’s a goddess. She’ll be my queen.
“So good, Malcolm. God, that feels so good,” she cries out when I pump in and out at a faster pace. Five rapid little jabs, before I pull my finger out and circle her clit, rubbing her in tight little circles while my tongue laps at her juices.
Fucks her entrance.
Blue eyes roll back, and her mouth drops open. Chest heaves as breathing becomes difficult.
Her reaction feeds my need to see her come. To have her bathe my face.
“Come for me, Twirl. Give me what’s mine.” And then I pinch her clit.
“I’m almost…fuck!” London comes with a scream, muscles clenching as her wetness drips down my lips and chin. It pools on the sheet below as I continue to love her, slowly bringing her down after a minute.
She’s limp in my bed, but her smile is wide. Tired but relaxed.
Leaving her in the morning is going to be hard.
We’re sitting at the dining room table when London finds me the next morning. She’s fresh out of the shower and wearing a ridiculous pair of wide-leg pants and crop top in a light grey cotton. They look cute, but on anyone else the bottoms would look funny.
Yet, on her thick hips, they work. Accentuate that perfect body.
Pausing at the entrance, she toes the floor, looking a bit unsure. “I’ll be in the kitchen...” Twirl points in the general direction it’s in “...anyone need anything?”
Shaking my head, I crook a finger. “Come here.”
At my words, a tiny smile crosses her lips. “Yes, sir.” However, the mock salute I’m given before she comes causes my dick to harden. Sassy little thing.
There’s a natural sway to her hips that I can’t help but watch. It’s sensual. Coquettish. A cock-teasing quality that she can’t control and isn’t aware of.
London isn’t conscious of her own appeal. Of her control over me.
A throat clears to my left, but I ignore the assholes and continue my perusal.
We’ve been working for a few hours now, preparing for the next few days and what I expect to be done while I’m gone. How they will handle the FBI agent lingering around my building downtown.
Vital information—both customer and transaction details, along with a few photographs of Shawn at a strip club—sit in front of me, and yet, the only thing I can focus on is my hunger for her. The desire to sweep everything off this table, witnesses be damned, and spread her out for me to enjoy is almost maddening. I’m not leaving without eating her pretty little cunt once more.
Getting on the plane with her taste on my tongue and scent on my lips.
However, it will have to wait, and instead, I’ll settle for a kiss on the mouth. Once she’s close enough, I reach a hand out and grab hers, pulling her down to my level.
Those blue orbs hold a hint of mischief—relief and happiness—when I press my lips to hers. “Good morning, beautiful.”
“Hi.”
“You sleep okay?” I ask, nipping my way down to her jaw where I take the skin between my teeth. “Feel rested?”
