I probably should, but I don't want to run. I want him all over me, right now.
"Please," I whimper, not above begging to get what I want.
He grinds against me, the hard line of his cock pressed to my belly, only a thin sliver of fabric separating us. His tongue sweeps into my mouth, hungry and deep. The sound hemakes—something between a growl and a moan—goes straight to my clit.
"You want this, baby?" His hand slides lower.
"Yes. God yes," I gasp, clinging to his shoulders, as he parts my slit like he owns every inch of me. I'm so wet it's embarrassing, but he only groans and presses harder, rubbing slow, torturous circles.
"Tell me to stop," he rasps against my neck, his voice wild with need.
"Don't you dare stop," I breathe, my head dropping back against the door. It feels like my whole body is strung tight, every muscle waiting for his next command. If he stops now, I may explode into pieces.
His thumb circles my clit mercilessly, faster, harder, his fingers sliding inside me until I gasp into his mouth. My hips buck without permission, my body traitorous and desperate, but he pins me with nothing more than the wildness of his eyes.
"R-Royce," I stutter. My knees threaten to collapse as he works me, his lips right at my ear, his voice velvet and steel. "More."
"More?"
"Fuck me, Royce," I groan, rocking against him. "Please."
"I know what you need, baby. You're dripping for me already," he says, a hint of smug awe in the words as he fucks me with his fingers until my vision blurs.
He seems to know exactly how close I am. Instead of finishing, he pulls back, dropping to his knees.
I choke on a moan as he drags my sleep shorts and panties all the way down my legs. His hands never leave me. His eyes neverleave my face. He looks up at me like I'm the answer to every prayer he's ever had.
"Stand still for me," he commands. "Let me see what a lucky motherfucker I am." His palms run up my calves and thighs, spreading me wide. "God yeah, pretty baby. Look at you."
I don't get a chance to respond before his face is between my legs, his mouth working me with unholy precision. His tongue flattens and curls, licking until my hands scrabble uselessly at the wood behind me.
Heat surges through every inch of my body, filthy noises echoing from both of us.
His tongue circles my clit, laps at my slit, and then thrusts deep.
I sob his name in response, my hands in his hair, pulling him closer.
He doesn't let go, not even when my hips buck, and my thighs clamp around his head. I'm so high on him I barely notice when my own voice cracks, the sound echoing around the entryway.
I come so hard I lose any pretense of control, my body a writhing mess.
Royce doesn't let up, not for a second, not even when I'm shaking and sobbing and half begging for mercy. He's ruthless, eating me through the orgasm, and then demanding another one.
I give it to him, flying apart with a shout.
I'm still catching my breath when he surges to his feet, hauling me up with him as if I weigh nothing. He stumbles a little, and I giggle, my legs wrapped around his waist and my arms locked around his neck, but he finds his balance quickly, shootingme that cocky, devastating smirk of his before kissing me again.
I taste myself on his tongue and moan, so turned on, I can't think.
He backs me into the living room and sinks down on the couch with me still clinging to him, never breaking the kiss.
My tank top is bunched around my ribs, my chest heaving against him, but he doesn't even bother with it. He just grabs the neckline and yanks it down, popping my tits free. His mouth is there immediately, sucking hard enough to make me gasp.
"Christ, Emelia. I could live on your taste and this perfect body." His teeth rake my nipple. "Every inch of you is a dream, baby."
His cock is already hard, straining beneath the thin mesh of his shorts. He fumbles them down just enough to slip it free.
I reach for him, wrapping one hand around his shaft, desperate to feel him.
