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I push her legs apart and take her hand away, then feast my eyes before bending her knees to lick her hole to hole. She moans, and when I take her clit into my mouth, she curls her fingers into my hair and arches her back.
“Oh, my God.”
I remember she’s never felt this before. Never had the tongue of a man on her. No one has tasted her but me, and fuck, is she sweet. Fuck if I don’t want to devour her whole as my cock aches for release.
“I’m going to come,” she says.
I lift my gaze to look at her as my mouth works over her clit. Mercedes arches her back, pulling handfuls of my hair as she moans my name and comes on my tongue, her orgasm drawn out, thighs tight around my neck. Her body collapses in exhaustion when it’s over.
Her eyes grow dreamy and soft as she watches me wipe the back of my hand over my lips, then dip my fingers between her legs. She shudders, her body too sensitive after her orgasm, but I scoop up her wetness and rub it over myself, fisting my cock.
Mercedes climbs up onto her elbows, mouth open as if she’s in awe as I pump. She looks up at me, then gets up on her knees and closes her hand over mine. I kiss her, and then with my hand around the back of her head, I guide her down and watch her as she takes me into her inexperienced mouth. Fuck, the sight of it, of her eyes looking up at me with her mouth full of me, it’s enough to make me blow down her throat now.
I grip a handful of hair and guide her over me slowly, drawing it out because this will be the last time. I swear it. And I want to make it last. I pull her off, taking a moment to regain control of myself, then lay her onto her back and straddle her torso. She licks her lips and opens her mouth, and this woman, fuck, this woman. I am done for. She will ruin me.
She chokes when I push too deep, too fast and pushes against me.
“Relax,” I tell her, giving her a moment to catch her breath but not pulling out fully because her tongue on my cock is doing things to me. “Just relax, little monster. Relax and take it. Because if you want to play this game with me, you’ll need to learn to swallow my cock.”
Her response is a deep moan.
I grip the footboard, and it takes all I have not to fuck her face the way I want to, the way I would anyone else. But I have to go slow with her. As slow as any man can when she relaxes enough that I can guide myself down her throat, and I don’t last long then. It feels too fucking good when we lock eyes, and she swallows me whole.
28
Judge
Guilt burns my gut.
One time has become two. And Mercedes is standing behind me now tracing the tattoo on my back, the broken sword with the elegantly drawn yet inelegant message Crede Nemini.
“Trust no one,” she says, then finds the raised scar beneath.
I grab her wrist and turn to her.
“The sword is your coat of arms. Sword and scales.”
“Finished?”
She looks down, gives me a half-grin, and runs her fingernails up along one thigh before cupping my dick, which is hard again.
I grip this wrist too, switch them into one hand. I turn off the water. “No.”
Her forehead furrows. “Why not?”
I release her, then step out and grab a dry towel. I toss it to her. She catches it but looks affronted. I need to put distance between us. This is too fucking hard with her. I walk out of the bathroom and into my closet. She follows me, her towel wrapped around herself, and watches me pull on clothes.
“You know, you give a woman whiplash, Judge.”
I exhale, slip my arms into my shirt, and turn to her. “This can’t happen again. It shouldn’t have happened this time.”
“Well, it did. And who cares? We’re adults. If we want to fuck, why can’t we just fuck?”
“Mercedes.” It comes out a groan. “You’re a De La Rosa.”
“And you’re a fucking Montgomery. We’re well matched.”
That stops me. Takes me by surprise. I step toward her, and in a rare moment, she looks uncertain. “I won’t marry, Mercedes. You know that, don’t you?”
