Page 82 of High Water

His eyes light with a smug sense of satisfaction at being needed.

“Is this what you wanted when you asked me up to your room?”

“One of the things,” I admit.

“What were the others?” He pauses to look up at me, a devilish promise in his eyes when he does it.

“Do this well, and I’ll tell you.” I taunt him with my own promises for the future.

He drags his tongue over me in one exploratory pass as punishment for my sass. I gasp loudly, threading my fingers into his hair as I take another long stroke of his tongue, parting me and raking over the sensitive nerve endings of my clit.

I look up to see us in the mirror, him on his knees, fully focused on the task at hand, his shoulder blades moving as his palms graze my thighs. I spread wider for him, and he takes the cue easily, circling the tip of his tongue over my clit and kissing me again with whisper-soft touches.

I whimper quietly, and the sound drives him to tease me more. His tongue flicks over my clit, and his hands slide up my thighs and under my ass, dragging me to the very edge of the bed. He slips one of my legs over his shoulder and then the other, giving him full access to every inch of me. I lean back onto my elbows, sad to lose the vision of us in the mirror as I stare up at the ceiling, but only for the briefest of moments. Because then I realize the skylight in the ceiling is at an angle where the light bouncing off it provides a second mirror-like experience. This angle is even more filthy than the last, and my stomach flutters with a smug sort of pride as I watch Bishop taking his time kissing and teasing every single inch of my pussy like it’s his last meal.

“The way I missed the taste of you. I’d do just about anything for that alone.” He presses a soft, wet kiss to the inside of my thigh and looks up at me, his eyes following mine to the ceiling. “You like the show, honey?”

“I think you were right about the frame. Looks even better this way.” I grin.

“Now you see why I need your input on aesthetics.” He flashes a bright smile at me before his mouth is on me again, his lips wrapped around my clit as two fingers slip inside me. I thread my fingers into his curls, pulling his hair gently and begging for more. He obliges by using his tongue to massage over me in tighter and tighter circles, and he adds another finger, picking up his pace until I’m pleading with him for mercy.

“Oh fuck. Please… Bishop…” His name fades on my lips, turning into incomprehensible cursing as I start to come hard. He lets me come down slowly, languidly lapping up every drop of wetness and kissing my skin softly as I writhe under his touch, giggling at the way his beard tickles my thighs.

“Fuck, I love hearing you say please.” He pulls back, holding out his hand and pulling me back into a seated position.

“Then you’ll like the next thing I’m going to ask. It starts with please.”

“Is it, ‘please, Bishop, let me fuck your face every night?’”

“No, but close.” I grin. “I was thinking more like please let me suck your dick, Bishop.”

He scrubs a hand over his face, and his eyes dart to the floor.

“I think we’re gonna have to save that for tomorrow.”

“Why?”

“’Cause the taste of you and hearing you was enough already. Then seeing you watching us like that? Fucking hell.” He rolls his shoulders like he’s uncomfortable. “I’m so fucking close right now; one touch of your tongue is gonna send me right over the edge.”

“Let me see.”

“What?”

“Stand up and let me see your cock, Bishop.”

He stands, slowly, reluctantly, and I can see where he’s pressing against the seams of his boxer briefs. I pull the waistband down, and his cock slips free of the fabric, so thick and hard that I believe him when he says he can hardly wait. He’s begging to be fucked.

I wrap my hand around him, and he groans loudly.

“Aspen, I’m serious. I won’t last if you keep doing this.”

“So am I.” I give him a wicked look and lean forward, darting my tongue out and teasing the underside of his cock with the lightest of licks.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!” he curses loudly, closing his eyes and gritting his teeth. “Please, honey. Have some mercy on me. I want to take my time when you finally let me have those pretty fucking lips wrapped around me.”

“How do you want to come tonight then?” I ask, eager to do whatever he wants after that performance.

“I don’t. I want a rain check.”