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He growled again before slamming his lips on mine in a punishing kiss. “You’re goddamn right I want a taste.”
With a gentleness that was unexpected from his gruff demeanor, he set me on my feet before squatting down and pulling my panties to the side. In the next breath, his lips were sucking on my pussy lips, and my hands were holding on to his head for dear life as I fought against the loud moan threatening to escape.
Oh my God.
My thighs shook as he worked his magic with his tongue. Then he slid one long finger inside my tight channel, and stars burst across my vision as my legs tightened and my body convulsed against his mouth.
Through the haze of my mind-bending orgasm, I heard him moan against my pussy before pulling back. My breath caught at the way his lips glistened with my juices. I didn’t think the sight had ever been sexy before, but on this guy it was.
He pushed a second finger inside me, then a third, stretching me wide, and then placed a kiss on my clit—a kiss that was more tender than I expected from a man like him.
“Your taste is dangerous, darlin’, and fucking addictive. I could bury my head in this sweet pussy all night.”
Yes, please.
His gaze lit with mirth, and that cocky smirk made another appearance. Oh shit, did I say that out loud?
He stood up and adjusted the thick length in his pants before pinning me in place with his hot gaze.
“I’m not done with you by a long shot, but I can’t do all the things I want to do to this hot little body in a bar bathroom. Your place or mine, Sugar?”
Oh for fuck’s sake. He called me sugar.
This was by far the most reckless thing I’d ever done, but there was no way I was stopping it now. So even though I knew it wasn’t wise to go somewhere with a complete stranger, I also knew I didn’t want him to know where I lived.
I wanted him to fuck my brains out tonight and then never see him again. And I was determined to get what I wanted.
DON’T BE VULNERABLE WITH A ONE-NIGHT STAND
JENNA
His place ended up being a hotel nearby. He didn’t explain and I didn’t ask. This was an anonymous hookup. We didn’t need to know anything about each other except for what made the other moan.
Instead of talking, the second we walked through the door, he had one hand on my throat and the other pulling up my dress and sliding into my panties where he found me still soaking wet for him. I moaned as he rubbed gentle circles on my clit that were like torture because they were too light to get me off but heavy enough to tease.
“Fuck, I love the sounds you make. I want you to scream for me tonight.”
“What about the neighbors?” This wasn’t the nicest hotel in the world—probably a solid three stars—and in my experience, even nice hotels tended to have thin walls, which meant these were likely paper thin.
“Fuck the neighbors. You want to be my little slut tonight and we both know it.”
He groaned as his words caused another round of arousal to flood where his fingers were buried in my pussy, proving his words right. I didn’t mind him calling me his little slut—even if the degradation of it should’ve bothered me, but somehow it turned me on more than anything ever had in my life.
Then his lips were on mine and his tongue was plundering my mouth again, and any words I could’ve come up with were completely lost.
He had me naked in seconds, but then took his time kissing every inch of my body, whispering dirty words that made my pussy throb and ache for him to stuff me full like he promised. Each kiss felt like he was discovering a new erogenous zone that left me needy and desperate.
“Please,” I begged. “I need you.”
It was the truth. He’d already made me feel more sexually satisfied than my ex had in our four years together. I was desperate to feel what he could do to me with that big cock in his pants.
He let out a low growl that was sexy as hell and then he was ripping off his clothes. We stood a foot apart, and my eyes grew wide at the sight of his naked body. He was by far the fittest guy I’d ever seen naked. His six-pack was solid like a rock, and his arms were a gift from the big man himself, as if molded from clay by the most superior artist in the history of the world. Every muscle, every inch of his body was sculpted to perfection. His thick thighs were a sign that he never skipped leg day, but it was the monster between his legs that had me feeling faint.
Holy shit, he was hung.
“That’s not gonna fit.”
There was that smirk again, and when I finally met his gaze, there was a dare in his eyes that made my heart beat faster.
