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Ruth clenches, gasping shyly.
My dick aches, and I can’t wait any longer. I wish I could take this slow, Ruth. I really do.
She yelps as I yank her backward, spreading her cheeks wide and running my tongue over her puckered hole. She’s mad with nervous energy, writhing against my mouth, arching like she’s about to break her spine in half.
That’s it. She’s done for.
The beast inside me snaps the head of the man with self-control. I devour her ass, lapping, sucking, eating her wildly. And to my utter, profound pleasure, she grinds against my mouth, moaning loud enough to send an echo through the stadium.
I fist my cock, now painfully hard in my pants, stroking myself at her eagerness to feel my tongue probing that tense ring.
“Oh…oh my…”
“Is your cunt wet for me, baby girl?” I kiss her ass cheek, eliciting goose bumps to rise on her thighs.
She looks back at me, eyes hooded and bloodshot. “Say that again.”
I raise my eyebrows in question.
“Call me that again.”
The urge to ejaculate is paralyzing. “Baby girl.”
“Ah, yes.” She turns back, reaching between our legs until she’s gripping my aching cock.
“Fuck,” I growl, jolting into her hand.
“I want you to…”
“What?” I ask, unable to think clearly with her hand wrapped around me.
“I want you to—make love to me.”
God is testing me. I’m going to fail. Please, don’t let me fail.
“No,” I grunt as her hand squeezes. “You want to come. And I’m going to make that happen in front of all these perverted soldiers.”
I tangle my hand in her curly hair and tug sharply, angling her face to look up at the stadium.
“You see those clowns, baby girl? They’re going to watch your face while I make you come, okay?”
She whimpers, doing her best to nod against my strict hold on her.
I clamp my hands on her inner thighs, squeezing the soft skin and guiding her back to my tongue. I lap at her relentlessly, tempted by the devil himself to run a finger between her dripping folds. But I promised. I shouldn’t. She’s probably so warm inside that wet center, so sinfully delicious.
I growl into her ass, feeling the claws of insanity pull me under, hold me down, threaten to rip my conscience apart.
“Promise me this won’t end when we leave here,” she gasps, clamping down every muscle.
“Is that what you want?” I lick her hole, lovingly this time, sending a shiver up her delicate spine.
“It’s what I want.”
I hesitate, massaging my fingers against her scalp. My brows wrinkle together as I frown. Is that really what she wants? Or is the ecstasy controlling her speech? Giving her impulsive thoughts?
“Okay,” I breathe. “I promise.” On my end, at least.
Keeping my tongue against her, I push the tip of my index finger inside, pulsating as I lick. Her surprised moans fill the stadium, louder, breathier, an aphrodisiac. She gyrates her hips against me, drawing out a guttural groan from deep in my chest.
