“Whit, please. I’ll be good, just please let me come.” There’s a hitch in her throat, her plea desperate.
“I don’t know that I’m finished.” My voice is a low rumble as I wrap my fingers around her ankle, lifting her foot to the bed. “Not when you pulse so prettily for me.”
“Please,” she begs as her thighs begin to shake. Her pussy contracting in a wave again.
“Maybe I’ll be kind and put you out of your misery.” My tone might be cool, but the knot in my belly tightens as I return my mouth to where she’s wet and hot. “If you tell me what you want. Tell me properly. Use all the filthy words.”
“Please,please, put your mouth on my clit. Suck on it—fuck me! I’ll come so hard for you, I promise. Just please let me!”
Less is more sometimes. And sometimes you just want to hear her beg you.
With a growl, I engulf her clit. I suck on it. Circle and flick. I make out with her pussy until her low moans bounce from the walls of the room and her inhibitions dissolve like sugar on my tongue. The way she rides my tongue, the sound of my name on her lips. It drives me fucking wild, my tongue coated in her heavenly slickness. I’m neither able to taste enough or touch enough—feel enough—as she thrashes, wrapping her legs around my head. A clunk sounds as something hits the floor. The glass water bottle, I’d guess, the thought barely registering as she presses her heels between my shoulder blades, making good on her promise. Pleasure coats her thighs as I lick her again and again until her mouth is full of filth, and her climax a thing of loud, unrestrained beauty.
“That’s it, darling. Ride my face. Come on my tongue.”
I give her no time to come down, no soft licks or delicate tongue as I scramble from the floor, putting my knee to the mattress. Her pussy is a slick slide against my stomach as I wrap my arms around her, lifting her against me.
“What are you…?”
“Just getting us a little more comfortable.” I press her down, and she whimpers at the drag of my cock when I reach across the bed to pull the nightstand drawer open. I move back, simultaneously ripping open a condom with my teeth.
“You’re staring, not that I’m complaining.”
“Of course you’re not.” Her mouth hitches in the corner.
“I wonder what it is you’re trying to imply.”
“Me? Nothing.” The bedding rustles as she gives her head a tiny shake. “You’re just being you, and why wouldn’t you be. But…” She worries her lip a little as though hesitant to go on.
“Tell me.” Her breath hitches, her eyes glued to where I take my cock in my hand.
“Do you ever think of me when you touch yourself?” she asks, her gaze lifting warily.
I give my cock a thorough tug, for her benefit mostly, my smile spilling as slow as honey.“Since you appeared and decided to torture me, my right hand and my cock have never been quite so intimately acquainted. Not since I was a teenager, at any rate.”
“Really?”
“Don’t look so pleased. That wasn’t a compliment.” It absolutely was. “It’s all on you. And it will beall on youif I don’t get this on.” I raise the open condom packet between my forefinger and middle finger.
“I’d like to see what that looks like sometime.”
“Yeah?”
“I’ve seen it before, you know. In porn.”
“Then I might show you the real thing. Some other time.”
“If I’m a good girl?”
My gaze flicks over her. “Let’s not make goals unobtainable.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she ask, faux aggrieved.
“I’m not sure being good is your forte. You’re like that rhyme about the girl with the pearl. When she’s good she’s very,verygood. But when she’s bad, she’s fucking delightful. Oh, look,” I add, bending and swiping my thumb over the rise of her clit. “You are the girl with the pearl.”
She laughs, flashing that gorgeous gap as she lifts her wrists above her head, stretching out in a supple line of attitude and wanton need. “You don’t think I can be good?”
“Not without incentive.”
