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Jig’s blood heated and his breathing grew shallow just from the sight of her. He pressed the heel of his hand over his denim-trapped cock in a failed attempt to ease the ache. Izzy took a step toward him. “Bra and panties off,” he said. “Leave the fucking shoes.”
“You like my shoes?” she asked as her hands went around her back. With one quick motion, she had the bra undone and tumbling to the ground. Two full, perky tits with pebbled nipples stared at him, just waiting for his mouth.
He licked his lips, already feeling them on his tongue, and Izzy’s breath hitched. “Like what they do to your legs and ass. Those panties wet? Get them off and hold them up so I can see.”
One hand went to each of her hips, and she slowly pulled the strings at the same time, loosening the bows. By the time she held them up and Jig saw the glistening proof of her arousal, he was nearly salivating for a taste of her. But he could control himself. He’d let her play at being in charge a while longer, then take what he needed.
After tossing the soaked panties to the side, she threaded the tail of her long braid over her left shoulder and yanked off the blue rubber band securing it together. Jig’s cock twitched as he watched her work her skilled fingers through the tightly woven hair. After a few seconds, long, wavy locks of black silk flowed down her back and over her shoulder.
Her eyes held a hint of vulnerability. She could no longer hide behind the badass, controlled look she preferred. All her sharp edges had been smoothed over, exposing the conqueror’s feminine underbelly.
His warrior was also a queen.
Still fierce, still powerful, still formidable, yet all woman.
Now, wearing only the sexiest fucking ankle boots in history, she walked toward him like a model working the runway. Each step had the hair draped over her tits swaying and brushing across her hardened nipples. He could tell by the way her breath quickened, it was getting to her. Good. He wanted her as fucking out of her mind as she was making him.
When she was just an inch away, she grabbed the hem of his shirt and drew his shirt over his head. He let her and returned his hands to his sides when she went to work on his jeans. After a minor struggle, she had his boots, jeans, and boxer briefs lying in a pile on the floor.
From a squat at his feet, she rose to her full height, only a few inches shorter than him with those boots and whispered, “Let me do this. All the way. Do not stop me.”
Then her mouth landed on his, and he hissed out a, “yes.”
Wasn’t the plan, but who could refuse her?
She gifted him a triumphant smile and returned to his skin, licking and sucking a slow trail of brutal kisses down his torso. Each time her warm, wet mouth latched onto him, his cock twitched and wept with need. After she reached his navel, she sank to her knees then stared up at him from the floor.
Shit, he wasn’t going to last ten seconds in her hot mouth.
Izzy must have sensed his thoughts because she winked. “Don’t worry, Jig, I’ll be gentle.”
He snorted. “Don’t you dare.”
Her gaze grew needy, and she slid a hand between her legs, rubbing her clit. “I want you just as bad,” she said with a low moan.
Then her free hand wrapped around the base of his dick, and he saw stars. Precum leaked from the tip. Izzy swiped her tongue over his slit, capturing the fluid right before she sucked the head into her mouth.
“Fuck,” Jig barked out as his head slammed against the door.
“Good?” Izzy asked around his cock one second before she removed her hand and sucked him deep.
“So fucking good,” he managed to say even though his brain was going haywire.
Bobbing on his dick, she drew him farther into her mouth with each pass, until, by the fifth go around, he hit the back of her throat. Given that she was out of practice, she gagged slightly, her throat muscles squeezing him and making him cry out. “Shit,” he said. “I almost came right there.”
With her mouth stuffed full of him, she giggled, and he groaned. There was a good chance he’d die right here buried halfway down her throat. She fingered herself as she sucked him in, again and again, her fingers increasing speed in time with her mouth.
At his sides, Jig opened and closed his fists until he could no longer resist the need to dive his fingers into all that thick hair. Sweeping it away from her face, he gathered it into a ponytail high on her head, giving him a better view of both her mouth on him and her hand between her legs.
