“I’ve been dying to taste you.”
five
Fern
“I’ve been dying totaste you.” His hands circle my waist, lifting me in the air as if I weigh nothing. He sits me down on my desk, kneels between my legs, and pushes my dress up, bunching it around my hips. “My turn.” His hands grip my thighs, spreading them wider to accommodate his broad shoulders. He presses his nose against my soaked panties andinhales deeply. “Fuck. You smell delicious.” He loosens his hold on my thighs long enough to rip my panties off. “Mine.” He growls, shoving them into his pants pocket.
I arch my back and moan at the first contact of his tongue licking me from hole to clit. The sensation is like nothing I’ve ever felt before. I lace my fingers through his hair, needing something to hang onto as he devours me. His tongue is relentless in its pursuit of my orgasm—licking in slow, smooth strokes one minute, then quick, jabs the next.
“Yes, Wayan. That feels so good.” I slap my hand over my mouth, realizing I’m shouting.
With a smirk, he looks at me from between my thighs, his tongue pausing mid-lick. “Baby, if your sisters don’t know what we’re doing in here, then maybe they need new men who know how to please them right.” His tongue goes back to work on my pussy before I can say a word. All thoughts of my sisters hearing us are gone. All I can concentrate on is how good he feels between my legs. With a sigh, I relax back onto the desk. “That’s it. You’re such a good girl. Just relax and let it happen.” His tongue swirls over my throbbing clit, taking me higher than I ever thought possible. It's almost like I’m flying outside of my body. Higher and higher until my toes curl and I’m crying out my release without caring if my sisters or anyone else can hear how good Wayan makes me feel. “Very, good girl.” Wayan kisses my inner thigh. “You don’t know how bad I want to fuck you right now.”
“Please. I want you. Now.” I can scarcely get the words out as my body rides out my orgasm.
“Not like this. I’m not going to make love to you for the first time on your desk.” I don’t correct him when he calls it making love. “The first time it’s going to be in a bed after I’ve spent more time worshipping your pussy and sucking on your large tits.” His filthy words go straight to my core, causing more wetness to leak from me. “Looks like I’m not done here.” He lowers his head, shifting his head from side to side, coating his beard in my juices, lapping up what’s left with his tongue.
After he’s licked me clean, he pulls me onto his lap on my chair. “I’m too heavy to sit on your lap.” I try to wiggle out of his arms, but he holds me tighter.
“Don’t you dare tell me you're too heavy for me. Have you seen me? I’m huge.”
That he definitely is. I wiggle my backside, feeling his rock-hard cock against my ass through our clothes. “Are you sure you don’t want to do it on my desk?” I wiggle again, causing him to grip my hips, forcing me to stop.
“I’ll come in my pants before I take you on this hard desk. Maybe in a few days, I’ll bend you over this desk and fuck you like we both want, but until then, you’re going to have to wait.” I stick out my lower lip in a pout. “The only thing that look is going to get you is my cock back down your throat.” At my smile, he groans. “You’re going to be the death of me, aren’t you?”
“But it will be a good way to go," I tease, instinctively leaning forward for a kiss. We both freeze when we realize what I almost did. “Sorry.” I lift my gaze from his lips to his eyes, then back again. “I should probably get back to work.” I slide off his lapwithout any resistance from him, leaving me feeling empty. “We need to go over your requirements for a wife. I have a full day with clients trying on wedding dresses—can we meet for supper?”
His eyes stray to my lips, the air crackling with our desire. “I’ll meet you back here at seven-thirty.” It’s not a question, but a command.
“Yes, sir,” I say softly. The words slipping out before I can stop them.
“Sir. I like that.” He stands, his body only inches away from mine—his eyes on my lips as he lowers his head.
“What are you doing?” I place my hands on his chest, his heart beating fast under my touch.
“Not kissing you on the lips.” He continues to lower his head, but instead of placing a kiss on my lips where I want to feel them the most, he turns his head slightly and kisses my cheek. “I’ll see you later.” He leans back, the promise of what is going to happen tonight clear in his eyes.
“Tonight,” I say as he takes a step back and strides out of my office, leaving me to wonder how I’m ever going to let him go when he finds his match.
six
Wayan
“Okay, that’s beginner's luck.”Fern shakes her head and takes a sip of her beer, the same kind that I ordered to go along with the boneless wings and fries. “Or maybe you’re cheating.” She laughs, setting her beer mug back on the table.
“I can’t help it if that’s the twentieth match in a row.” I shrug.
We’re having supper at the Tipsy Tavern and playing the icebreaker game Aspen sent with Fern for me to practice, but instead of playing alone, I convinced Fern to join me.
“Yup, Sug. I’ve been watching your man, and he’s not cheating. You two really are a perfect match.” Our waitress, Shirley, drops off another basket of wings for bottomless wing night.
“He’s not my man.” Fern quickly corrects her.
Shirley glances between us, and I can almost hear her thoughts as she looks at the cards on the table with our nearly identical answers. “If he’s not your man, then one of you must be psychic because no amount of luck could match the number of identical answers you’ve given tonight, and I should know—you’ve been sitting in my section for the last three hours playing that damn game.” There’s no anger in her words, only the wisdom of someone who’s worked in the public for years, who knows how to read the situation.
“Thank you for your service.” I nod at her. “You will be greatly rewarded with our tip when we leave here tonight.” She rolls her eyes and walks away from our table, mumbling something about if we ever leave here tonight. “How about a dance?” I hold out my hand to Fern, waiting for her to take it. When she hesitates, I wonder if I’ve pushed my luck tonight or gone too far by asking for a dance.
“Sure.” She takes my hand, and I sigh in relief. I want tonight to be perfect, so I want her to be as comfortable as possibletouching me. I don’t think that will be a problem, but I don’t want to take any chances.
