Page 74 of Haunted Spurs

Dammit.

Lust fogs my brain. The only thing driving me is the urge to reach out, grab his hair, and shove his head violently between my legs. I want to let go, lose myself, and come until I pass out under his tongue.

"That's a good girl..." His thumb traces my folds, gently parting my petals. "Spread wide for me."

I can't hold back. I moan shamelessly as his wet finger slides slowly over my swollen, sensitive folds.

"You're so slick... so pink," his voice is a low, hypnotic rasp as he keeps dragging his fingertip up and down, spreading my own wetness. "Wet and ready for me."

Jesus Christ.

Who would have thought that one day I'd end up mentally begging this man to keep talking?

Ron keeps staring at my core like he's hypnotized. Then he slowly pushes the tip of one finger inside me.

The sudden fullness makes me arch my back. He moans along with me. A deep, raspy sound that vibrates against my thighs. I tremble, sliding imperceptibly down the bedspread to get closer to him, desperately needing more of him. Needing more.

"Dammit, Ron," I pant, balling my fists in the wrinkled sheets. "Do it."

He lifts his face for a second. The corner of his mouth pulls into his trademark lopsided smirk. "Are you getting impatient now, little Selly?"

I take a shaky breath. "I take it back," I hiss, my voice cracking. "I don't think I could hate you any less. Not even on your knees."

His smile widens into a lethal grin.

He slides a second finger in, filling me.

"Are you sure?"

I part my lips, gasping for air. "Yes, you're even more... irritating."

Without warning, Ron curls his fingers upward, hitting a spot that completely short-circuits my brain. I moan, loud and clear.

If this is his personal revenge for my teasing... then I think pissing Ron Willers off might be way, way more fun than I thought.

His hands move from my hips. He grabs my ankles and lifts my legs, resting my feet firmly over his broad shoulders.

I feel completely, terrifyingly exposed. My core is spread wide open, utterly defenseless beneath his gaze.

Ron lowers his head.

The first touch of his tongue is a jolt of electricity.

He groans against my skin, a sound that seeps right into my bones, and drags the flat, wet muscle of his tongue upward, then swirls it in slow, firm circles around my clit.

And it is fucking heaven.

"You taste so damn good," he murmurs against me, pressing kisses to the inside of my thighs.

I instinctively squeeze my calves around his neck and bury my hands in his hair, pushing his face tighter against my center. "Don't stop," I beg him. I have lost all dignity.

"That's it, good girl," he hums, his hot breath setting my nerves on fire. "Take whatever you want, Selly."

Dammit.

I moan, desperate, and grind my hips against his mouth with more force.

Ron caters to my demand instantly. His tongue picks up the pace, turning ravenous. He slides his hands under me, cupping my ass firmly. His fingers dig into my flesh as he presses me exactly where he wants me, controlling my every move.