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“Let me watch you lick it, Bailey,” he commanded, his voice harder now, more dominant. “Use your tongue on me, baby.”
She drew back, her tongue extending, licking, stroking. God he felt so good, tasted so male. She’d been desperate to touch him, and now that she had him she was shaking with the wonder of it.
“Fuck me, yes,” he muttered. “That’s what I’m going to do to you, sweetheart. Lick your sweet pussy till you scream. Till you’re begging for more.”
She was ready to beg now. The very thought of his tongue stroking between her thighs sent her juices spilling from her sex to dampen the folds further.
“Suck me now.” The hands in her hair pressed her closer until her lips were parting, taking him inside the wet warmth of her mouth as his cock flexed and throbbed and spilled a precious drop of pre-cum.
Bailey licked at it eagerly, hungrily. She was lost in the moment, the pleasure, and the man. Nothing mattered outside the walls of the bungalow, nothing mattered except this. Touching him. Feeling his touch.
She filled her mouth with the engorged flesh of his cock, taking a small amount of it, suckling at the head, licking at it, and finding her reward in the hard, guttural groans coming from his chest.
She glanced up at him, saw the hard savage pleasure that twisted his expression, and the blood thundered through her veins in excitement. She was an admitted adrenaline junkie herself, but no high she had experienced could compare to this.
Taking Trent into her mouth, caressing him, seeing his pleasure in her. It made her feel beautiful. She felt desired.
“Hell. No more.” He was dragging her head back.
Bailey moaned in protest. She wanted more. She wanted to feel him exploding in her mouth, taking her, marking her.
“Enough,” he ordered, the rich velvet of his voice roughening as she found herself on her back once again.
He held her wrists in one hand, stretching them above her head as he stared down at her, the thick sandy blond lashes shielding his dark gray eyes as he watched her.
His lips were fuller now. A dark flush mantled his cheeks as the long strands of dark blond hair fell over his brow.
“I’m going to eat you up like candy,” he promised, licking his lips as Bailey fought back a sensual cry.
“I think you’re just going to talk me to death,” she accused him roughly.
His chuckle was dark and deep. It was filled with purpose and washed over her senses like a soft summer rain as his head lowered, his lips going to one plump nipple.
Bailey arched beneath him as the heat of his mouth surrounded the sensitive tip. Her fingers curled until her nails bit into her palms and she strained against his head.
“Oh God, Trent.” She wanted to scream his name but didn’t have the breath to do more than push out a whispered cry.
Her fingers fisted into his hair as he sucked at the hard point of her nipple. His tongue lashed at it, his teeth raked it. He tormented it, tortured it until she arched against him, strangled cries leaving her throat as she fought to hold him to her.
Perspiration sheened her flesh, desire dampened her thighs. She could feel the pulse and throb of blood inside her sex and the aching tightness of her clit.
She was on fire. Flames were racing across her flesh, tingling between her thighs. When he slid his leg between hers, the heavy muscle of his upper leg pressing into the aching folds between her thighs, she nearly came from the contact.
Arching into the pressure, her hips writhed as she rubbed the swollen knot of her clit into his hot flesh. She could feel sensation winding tighter in her womb, the need for orgasm becoming painful as his lips moved from one peaked nipple to the next.
When he moved back, his lips roaming down her body, Bailey was helpless against the desire tearing through her. Her legs parted for his shoulders, and when his tongue licked through the heavy juices built along the folds of her sex, she nearly came off the bed, the pleasure was so great.
It was like having a flame, sensual, wicked, laid to her flesh. His tongue licked slow and easy through the narrow slit; then his lips caught at the flesh, gave it a suckling kiss before moving to the sensitive folds on the other side.
His teeth rasped against the swollen mound, his tongue licking around her clit. And all the while his fingers played a rapturous, torturous little game as they circled and probed at the entrance.
“You’re the tease,” she cried out as her fingers clenched in his hair and she fought to hold him in place while he gave an exquisite little suckling kiss to her clit. “You’re killing me, Trent.”
“Loving you,” he muttered against her sex. “God, Bailey, you taste like peaches and cream.”
“Soap,” she moaned.
His chuckle sent pleasure tearing through her.
