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As she does, I realize she isn’t wearing any underwear, and as she kicks them away, she’s so wet, her thighs glisten.
It takes effort to stop touching myself. Goddamn, Bee can play me like a fucking fiddle. The pied piper of my dick, even from the other side of the room.
I hooked up regularly in my twenties. Dancing and bartending meant my bed was never without a warm and willing body when I wanted one, and back then, I wanted. All the damn time. Sure, love sounded nice, but there was always time. Something I’d worry about later, when I was ready.
Then everyone around me started settling down, and casual sex didn’t have the same kick it used to.
There were a few times I knew I’d strung someone along, felt like a prick even back then. I wish I could go back and hit twenty-three-year-old me upside the head forbeing so fucking selfish, but I get it now. Why they’d keep coming back, keep hoping, even if it was one-sided.
Maybe this is karma catching up to me.
“Fuck, Bee, look at you.”
When she curls a hand along the inside of her thighs, spreading the wetness that’s dripped from her sweet pussy, I twist the sheets in my fists. It doesn’t stop there. She rubs it into her skin, moaning low and desperate as she does, and my cock jumps in response.
“You’re making me a liar,” I say, casting my gaze slowly over every inch of her beautiful body. “Perfect does exist, and I’m looking at it.”
Bee whimpers, eyes closing.
“Circle your clit for me. Gently. I want to see how you touch yourself when you think of me.”
I watch the wet slide of her fingers as she circles them, starting slow but building up. Tight little movements against her clit, her hips shifting, rocking against her hand as she pleasures herself.
“Go deeper. I can see how wet you are from here. Jesus fucking Christ, you’re dripping.”
I could launch myself across the room, pull her thighs open, taste every drop, but I don’t.
“You want this, don’t you?” I take myself in hand again, pulling my underwear down until it’s sitting tight under my balls and stroke myself, keeping an infuriatingly slow pace. I want—no, I need—this to last. “My cock. You need it.”
She moans loudly. “Yes.”
“Bee.”
She licks her lips, not moving. Waiting. “Yes?”
My voice is rough. “Come here.”
As soon as she’s within reach, I pull her the rest of the way, grabbing her ass and surging up to kiss her. When she gasps, I take advantage, slipping my tongue into her mouth. Savoring her taste.
I raise a hand to her throat, tilting her chin so I can mark up the delicate flesh.
Following the curve of her ass, I slide my hand down, brushing past the tight ring of muscle on my way. Bee whimpers. I keep going until I reach her sex, which is slick. “So wet for me.”
I release her throat to wrap my arm around her waist and pull her tight against my chest, exploring her pussy. As I spread her juices, I duck my head, taking a nipple between my lips, sucking it just how I know she likes it.
Bee is writhing and moaning above me. Releasing her, I fall back onto the bed, grabbing her hips and coaxing her farther up my body. “Keep going. I need to taste you.”
When she speaks, it’s thick and syrupy. “What if I want to taste you?”
I slap her ass. “That’s an order, angel.”
There’s no holding back when she’s finally straddling my face.
I’m reverent. Kissing the inside of her thighs, lapping up every trace of her. “This is where I always want you. Right here, and nowhere else.”
Bee whimpers and shakes as I take her clit between my lips, sucking gently, circling slow and teasing with my tongue. She’s holding on to the headboard with one hand, resting her forehead on her wrist while she buries the other deep in my hair.
With my mouth occupied in my mission to drive her out of her mind, I explore the rest of her body with my hands, skating them over her skin, feeling each tremble, encouraging her to roll and grind against my face.
