Page 81 of Four Promises to Love

Her pout gave his prick a heartbeat of its own.

“Fine,” she said. “Kiss me there.”

“Where?”

“On my pussy.”

“Since you asked so nicely, I shall.” He smiled when she growled. “But let’s try it this way.”

Shifting, he lay beside her, his head to her feet. Then he hoisted her hips so that her knees braced his head and her cunny hovered over his face.

“What are you—crikey.”

He brought her down firmly on his mouth, and she gasped, wriggling against his tongue. Grunting with pleasure, he licked her seam from top to bottom. He teased her pearl, flicking and sucking on the little bud as she ground against him. Suddenly, she stiffened—and rewarded him with a gush of her cream. He lapped it up greedily as she trembled atop him.

She twisted her head to peer at him, her eyes warm and sated.

“That was lovely,” she said.

“I’ll say.” He licked his lips. “I cannot wait to have more.”

“As to that. I was wondering…”

He raised his brows.

“Would you mind if I had my own feast?”

When she caressed his cock through his trousers, he shuddered.

“I thought you would never ask,” he said.

She sent him a flirty grin, then got to work freeing him from his trousers. He hissed out a breath when she wrapped her fingers around his shaft. Prying it from his stomach, she pumped him from root to tip.

“You’re so big,” she said in throaty tones. “I can barely get my hand around you.”

“You are doing just fine,” he managed.

“Just fine?”

She squeezed his tip, shooting pleasure through his veins. When she took the sensitive knob between her lips, he groaned her name.

“I like the way you taste.” Her warm breath feathered over his quivering dome. “Salty and male. Delicious.”

“By all means, have more.”

He hoped it sounded like an invitation, not a plea. Either way, she obliged, diving down on him with feminine gusto. Her mouth was an inferno of pleasure as she bobbed on his prick. When she began playing with his stones, cradling and squeezing the swollen sacs, he spurted a little between her lips.

“Oh, an appetizer,” she purred.

He willed himself not to come yet. As Finn performed her erotic torture, he decided that two could play that game. The fresh dew that coated her petals told him she was enjoying this sport—and ready for some new maneuvers. Spreading her folds, he stiffened his tongue and thrust it into her opening.

She squeaked in surprise. The fact that the sound was muffled by her mouthful of cock was beyond arousing. He redoubled his efforts, stabbing his tongue into her snug channel. They rocked against each other, giving and taking. The double pleasure soon brought him perilously close to the edge.

Circling her pearl with his thumb, he rubbed her roughly while he ate her. The honey coating his cheeks and her desperate mewls told him she was nearly there. He explored her derriere, finding her pretty rosebud. When he tongued the winking rim, she jerked.

“Owen, not there,” she gasped. “That’s wicked.”

“Every part of you, Finn,” he rasped. “All of you—mine.”