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I felt the fruit slide inside me the tiniest bit and forced myself to stand still, but that didn’t stop a moan from slipping out as peach juice trickled down my legs. “That’s good…very good, querido.”
“I’ve got something better,” he whispered against my skin, then pressed a kiss to one painfully taut nipple, pulling it into his mouth.
“Not yet. Do that some more.”
From far away I could hear the low-level hum of the crowd, and the sultry scent of peaches and sex tickled my nose. Chris’s wet tongue slid out and circled my nipple while he never took his eyes off my face.
He continued to tease me with the fruit and his fingers, sliding them in and out of me, fucking me until my legs shook and I couldn’t hold off my orgasm any longer. Between his fingers and the peach, I was a goner.
“Don’t stop. Don’t you dare stop, dammit.” I locked my arms around his neck and latched onto his earlobe as I rolled my hips against the slick fruit tickling my clit. The soft material of his T-shirt chafed at my nipples, pushing me to a fever pitch. I stiffened against him and my hips took on a mind of their own as I climaxed with enough force to steal my breath away and leave me weak-kneed. Thankful for the wall at my back, I pushed myself upright, despite my pounding heart, and gave him a sleepy-eyed smile. “Eat it.”
He never even hesitated. Just slid the peach, coated with my juices, between his lips like a good boy and sucked it clean before cutting it in half with those sharp white teeth. He fed me the rest on my order and watched as I licked the last of my juices from his fingers.
With another deep breath to clear my head, I rehooked my bra and pulled my shirt down. “If you want…some”—I gave him a long hard look, taking in the prominent erection straining against his shorts—“you have to help make it.”
It, of course, being peach cobbler.
Slipping from his arms, I retrieved my skirt and shimmied into it before turning and tucking my panties in the pocket of his shorts.
“You’re gonna kill me, Fiona,” he mumbled with a shake of his head.
“But you’ll die a happy man.” Smiling, I grabbed his hand and led him out of the alley. We turned down the sidewalk, heading away from the commotion of downtown Carthage.
“How far are we going?” he finally asked. We’d only gone a block.
“Not too far, why?” I turned and smiled at him over my shoulder but didn’t stop.
“Baby, I’m hurting,” he groaned softly.
“Just a little bit further,” I coaxed, turning onto my street. Two houses later we were turning into my driveway. I gave a last glance over my shoulder at the neighborhood. All was quiet. The tidy old houses with their tidy little lawns, pristine and sparkling in the early summer sunshine. Not one curtain moved. Good.
“How bad do you ache, querido?” I slowed my pace as we neared my Mustang. “You want it now, or should I make you wait a little longer?”
“Now, inside.” Pushing me against the car, he lifted my skirt and ground against my bare ass. A move that made my belly tighten with need.
“How about now? Right here?” I challenged, smiling to myself. Chris had no idea what he’d gotten himself into.
“What if someone sees us?” he growled against the crook of my neck. He sank his teeth into my skin and the memory of those same teeth cutting the peach in half flashed behind my eyes.
“Right here, or you wait. You have to be good to get what you want—”
“I’m always good,” he softly insisted.
“I know, but this time you have to be good my way. Remember?” I forced myself to breathe through the feel of his erection against my naked bottom and the heat of the car searing into my thighs as I bent over the hood of the car.
“Dammit, Fiona, I can’t!”
“Then you don’t want it bad enough.” My pussy clenched as I pushed my hips against him in challenge. “Did you like how I taste?”
“Oh God, yeah.”
“Do you want to taste me again?” I bit back a moan and waited to see if I’d break him. Then sighed as a warm breeze caressed my bottom. I fixed my skirt and turned to find him leaning against the side of the house, his chest heaving with every breath.
“No. I do, but not like this.”
“Fine.” I was disappointed, but far from bested. I had all afternoon to reel him in. I led him up the porch steps, aware of the slippery slide of my pussy and the ache between my thighs. Inside, the cool air washed away the day’s heat but not the heat of my need.
“Damn, it smells good in here.”
