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He trailed a finger down the column of her throat and between the valley of her breasts, flicking the bell there. “So that’s what I heard the other day.”
Quinley watched as he planted a hand on her stomach, spreading his fingers wide to claim as much skin as he could.
“My babies are going to grow in here, you know.” One fingertip roamed downward until he reached her skirt. He flipped it up, and his eyes flared as they went from hot to scorching. “Bare.”
Her heart thumped in her chest as he went to his knees. Again, her skirt was shoved up. She gasped as his tongue did an idle swirl around her tight bundle of nerves.
“Now,” he began, his pitch lowering, “we both know you don’t last long when I go down on you. But tonight, you’re going to hold out until I’m done.” Notes of dominance, compulsion, and sexual power were all threaded through his voice. “Is that understood?”
Was it understood? Yes. Was it possible? Likely not. “And if I fail?”
“I fuck you, but I don’t let you come.” He shrugged one shoulder. “Call that an incentive to help you hold out.”
“I’m not sure I can.”
“You can. You will. Because I told you to.”
Isaiah threw one of her legs over his shoulder, the stocking incredibly soft but still nowhere near as soft as the luscious thigh he then gripped. Having her hanging right there on that hook, his own personal plaything completely at his mercy, was like a hot fist around his cock.
The earthy scent of her pussy drew him closer. He nuzzled her with a hum. “Already slick. Good.”
He wanted to fucking devour her, but she’d come too fast if he did. So he stuck to featherlight licks of his tongue, barely-there nips of his teeth, and shallow dips of his finger.
He loved eating her out. Loved her taste. Her scent. The little noises she made.
Quinley tilted her head back and tried arching into his mouth. He didn’t let her, keeping his grip on her ass firm so he could hold her hips at the exact angle he wanted them.
Stifling a smile at her low hiss of irritation, he took her clit between his lips and suckled over and over. She gasped, her leg pressing against his back. He went motionless, keeping his tongue pressed on her clit with the barest amount of pressure—enough to tease, madden, and inflame.
Then he shoved two fingers inside her.
She moaned, her inner walls beginning to spasm.
He pulled back and withdrew his fingers. “Oh no you don’t.”
She whimpered in frustration, sagging against the wall. “Why don’t you like me anymore?”
He didn’t bother holding back a chuckle. “Let’s try that again, shall we?”
Isaiah went back to eating her out. Not soft or light this time, though. He dug right in and feasted.
With firm licks, suckling bites, and thrusts of his tongue, he drove her up high yet again. He knew her. Knew she was raring to come. But he didn’t ease off.
He swiped his tongue up, down, left, and right; dragged it over her slick folds in a zigzag fashion; rubbed it along the side of her clit. But even as her thigh muscles quivered and her pussy quaked and her breathing went to shit, she held out for him.
“Such a good girl,” he praised. “You can come now.” He tugged on her clit and bit into her inner thigh hard, making his cat—drunk on her scent—growl in approval.
She came with a rasp of his name, her head falling back.
Isaiah surged to his feet and lowered his zipper, needing to be in her more than he needed to fucking breathe. He caught her ass again, lifted her, angled her hips just right, and nudged the broad tip of his dick inside her.
Her fuck-drunk eyes fixed on his, the gleam of her cat’s gaze moving just behind them. The sight drew his own cat closer.
“Come whenever you want.” He roughly rocked his hips upward, slamming deep, taking what was his.
Her breath hitched, her body jolted, and her pussy spasmed around him.
Isaiah groaned through gritted teeth. “Feel how deep I am, Quin. Feel me use you.” He railed her hard, the drive to once more stake his claim beating in his blood and throbbing in his soul. The little bell on her bra jingled with every dig of his cock.
