Page 85 of Coveted By Cupid

“Cupid,” I whine, clawing at the couch as if grabbing hold of something will prevent me from going over the edge.

“Oh, Butterfly,” he mumbles against my sex. “You’re right there, aren’t you?”

“Yes!”

“Show me you’re my dirty girl. Drench my beard.” And then he sucks my clit into his mouth—hard.

My body responds like a firecracker exploding. My insides pull upward before shuddering violently. I cry out as wetness spills out of me, running down my legs and probably soaking my relentless biker.

Cupid hums, greedily sucking at me like he can’t get enough of my cream. “Goddamn, I’m a lucky bastard. You’re a squirter, and it’s all for me.”

Heat spreads across my cheekbones. I’ve never squirted before. Hell, I didn’t even know I could. My embarrassment quickly fades with how ravenous Cupid is, lapping at my still pulsing sex and the sloppy sounds he makes slurping down my wetness.

When Cupid is done abusing my pussy with his mouth, he rises to his feet behind me. “I’m not done with you yet.”

He kicks my feet out wider with his biker boots, opening my sex to him. The cool metal of his undone belt buckle presses against my ass, making me shudder with excitement. The hiss of his zipper echoes around the room, mixing with my labored breathing.

Cupid stands still behind me, going silent.

What’s going on? Why has he stopped? Is something wrong?

The long pause has me peeking over my shoulder at him, curious what the holdup is.

My biker is staring fondly at my wet pussy like it’s the most amazing thing in the world, running his hands over my ass and spreading my cheeks to get a better look.

Nobody has looked at me down there the way he’s doing, at least not to this degree. Most guys are all about getting off as quickly as possible. However, Cupid seems mesmerized and unwilling to breeze past exploring me.

“What are you doing?”

His eyes slowly meet mine, a proud smirk on his normally stoic face. “Admiring my pretty cunt.”

Holy hell! That’s hot.

I always consider the word cunt to be distasteful. Yet, the way Cupid uses it in reverence makes it my new favorite word.

Grinning, Cupid holds my stare as he palms my sex. The heat of his touch warms my already hot, tender flesh, igniting my nerve endings anew.

Without warning, Cupid slaps my sex. It’s not painful, but enough to get the reaction he wants out of me. My insides clench, and I let out a tortured moan, coating his hand with my earlier release.

“Whose cunt is this?”

“Your cunt,” I whisper obediently, my face going hot.

“That’s right,” he says, sounding smug. “Does my cunt want her cock?”

Oh, my word! Dirty has never sounded as hot as it does coming from Cupid’s lips.

“Yes,” I plead, rubbing myself against his hand to ease the ache building between my legs. “Give it to me.”

“You beg so prettily,” he coos, pulling himself out of his jeans. It stands at attention, thick and dripping with pre-come from the tip.

Suddenly thirsty for him, I lick my parched lips.

Tracking the movement with his eyes, Cupid chuckles darkly. He takes his huge, fully erect dick in his hands, slapping it against my sex. “I’ll feed it to you later. First, I need to fill this greedy snatch.”

There’s no warning before he’s thrusting into me, spearing me to the hilt. My mouth falls open in a silent cry of pleasure.

Cupid sets a relentless pace, grabbing my hips and pounding into me with vigor hard enough to rock me to my core.