Page 52 of Sterling Clay

“Oh God.”

“I want to feel your heat and—”

Mavis clutches my wrist on the hand working her clit and uses her other hand to cover her mouth. She arches her back deeper and cries into her own palm.

“Fuck yeah,” I whisper, nipping at her neck as she comes apart in record time.

Her head lolls forward as she drops her hand from her mouth to the edge of the sink. With my hand still on her chest, I can feel her sporadic breaths. In the reflection of the mirror, I watch her blink. Stunned by how quickly she came.

She spins and slithers downward before me.

“Butterfly,” I choke, watching her descend to the floor and pop open my jeans. “We don’t have—”

I’m cut off when her hand slides over my boxer briefs and cups my balls. Then she has my underwear and jeans tugged down to my knees.

“I need to taste you,” she groans.

And my lungs stop working as she sucks me to the back of her throat. Leaning forward, I place one hand on the edge of the sink to steady myself as I watch her head bob. Her mouth circles my cock, and she sucks up and down my shaft, tugging, teasing before twirling her tongue around the crown and dipping along the slit of my tip. Then she draws me deep within her warm mouth and cups my balls again.

I stroke my hand over the back of her head. Then I palm the nape of her neck and squeeze.

Mavis drops her hand from my balls, spreads her thighs, and I watch as her hand disappears between them. She slurps and sucks at me while touching herself.

“Is it getting you off that you’re getting me off?”

She hums around me.

Fuck. This woman is going to be the death of me. My hips begin to rock until I’m fucking her sweet mouth, and she’s stroking herself like she can’t get there fast enough. The frantic rhythm of her own movements increases the intense way she devours me until I’m giving her a singular warning. “Butterfly.”

I thrust forward and Mavis rises up on her knees, swallowing me down as I go off inside her. Her shoulders collapse as she reaches a release herself.

Clutching at the sink behind her head, I raggedly breathe as she slips up my shaft and presses a final kiss to the tip. Then she looks up at me from her knees, all innocent dark eyes, sweet and trusting from her position below me. She swipes over her lips with a fingertip, not missing a drop.

“You little minx,” I tease her, reaching underneath her armpits and hoisting her upward. She lets out a squeak as I set her on the sink.

“Let me see the stain.” I glance toward her legs, and she spreads them the slightest bit. “No need to be shy now.”

I force her knees apart and then lower my face between her thighs, inhaling her intoxicating scent. Her hand swipes over my hair before she tugs at the short strands.

Lifting my head, I meet her gaze.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

I chuckle, deep and rough. “Thank you.” I don’t know where any of that came from, but I feel refreshed, relieved. The week without touching her has been torture. And I’m not going to last another week without more of her.

“We should probably go.” Her voice is quiet. Her lids lowered.

“Are you okay?” I tip up her chin. “Are we okay?”

She nods but doesn’t answer me with words. Then she kisses my nose and hops off the counter, forcing me to move back.

I right my jeans while she checks her hair in my mirror, like it’s natural for us to share this tight space. Doing our own things but still being close to one another.

“I need a minute,” I tell her. Time to settle my heart and cool my thoughts. Because there are things I want to say to Mavis that she might not want to hear.

She opens the door and I smack her ass, liking how the sound resonates in the confined space.

Mavis turns only her head, chewing her lip and fighting a smile before walking away.