Page 34 of The Boyfriend Experience

“I’m driving me crazy too.” She laughs.

“Are you sure—”

“Yes.”

So I stand up, grabbing her ass to keep her body close, and she automatically wraps her legs around my middle. I want to take her upstairs but I don’t really know where her bedroom is and looking for it would kill the mood. So I just reposition her on one of the long ends of the u-shaped couch and ease her back until her legs stop gripping my waist and she lets herself lie back.

I place one hand on each of her knees and go for it. Just open them up as she lifts her skirt out of the way and pulls her panties aside, and go for it.

I’m on my knees, my head positioned, my mouth salivating at the thought of licking her. She repositions so her back is pressed into the cushions and her legs are wide open, and one of her hands is on my head—not guiding me, exactly. But urging me.

I don’t need the urging. My tongue flicks against her folds, making her moan and wiggle a little. And I take over the job of keeping her panties pushed aside so she is free to do whatever she wants with that hand.

She slides it along my neck, softly dragging her long fingernails across my skin, and these light, feather touches make my whole body prickle up with a chill of pleasure.

Both of my hands reach up and grab her breasts, squeezing them as I lick her, searching for the spot that will make her moan.

“He can make me come in seconds if he wants,” she says. “Or he can drag it out of me slowly, over an entire night.”

Her words about what makes a perfect boyfriend.

One hand releases her breast and slides down, brushing across her t-shirt bedazzled in gemstones until I have one finger pressing against the entrance of her pussy.

She’s wet down there. Just like her mouth was wet when we kissed. And when I push the tip of my finger inside her just a few centimeters, just enough to part her folds of sweet-smelling flesh, she arches her back and begins to breathe heavy. Her chest rises and falls, the air spilling out of her mouth in ragged gasps, like I really could make her come in seconds.

But I don’t want to.

I decide to drag it out slowly.

CHAPTER NINE - OAKLEE

My God, he feels good. His tongue does magical things to me. His finger is gentle as it probes my inner depths. Maybe too gentle. I can feel the climax just waiting. Just hanging out, sitting on the edge of a hundred-foot drop, waiting for him to push me off.

But he doesn’t.

Oh, his tongue never stops and his finger keeps pressing. But he won’t let it enter me deeply. His tongue always misses my clit, and I know—I just know—he’s doing that on purpose. Lawton is a man who knows his way around a woman, I can tell. He knows exactly where my hot buttons are.

“More,” I say. “I want more.”

But he doesn’t answer me. Doesn’t stop what he’s doing. Doesn’t make even the slightest change in his movements.

It’s torture with a side of bliss.

It’s delightful suffering.

It’s playful agony.

And I don’t think I can take it. I don’t think he’s going for making me come in seconds and that’s what I want right now. He’s going to drag it out of me slowly just because he can.

“Lawton,” I groan. “Come on…”

But he just keeps licking. Just keeps pressing. His tongue deliberately missing the one place I want it so desperately to touch. His finger just deep enough inside me so I know what he could do, always holding back and never giving me what he should do.

“You’re teasing me.”

Which makes him laugh. The slight puff of air that escapes his mouth is like a vibrator set on the slowest speed.

I grab his hair and press his face into me. I grind my hips, searching for a way to make him slip. Make him relent and give me what I need.