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His eyes sparkle as he licks the spoon clean. “Yes, and I’m not sharing.”
He stands above me, his large body blocking the light, and eats his ice cream savoring every bite.
When it’s gone I squeak as he turns the bowl upside down, letting the cold melted liquid spill over my belly. There’s not a lot of it, but enough.
“Whoops. How clumsy of me. Let me clean it up for you.”
I expect him to go to the kitchen and get a wet towel.
Stupid me.
He drops to his knees beside me, and lowers his head using his tongue to swipe the dripping liquid from my body.
My breath stutters out in little wisps of air. “Delicious,” he remarks, his mouth moving lower, past my belly button.
He gently opens my legs and I nearly rise off the couch when he licks my pussy. He lifts his head grinning at me, because I can’t go anywhere. I’m trapped here, but let’s face it I wouldn’t move even if I could.
If Hollis is the Devil, then sign me up for hell.
My hips begin to rotate and he locks them down so I can’t wiggle around.
I whimper and press my right hand against my lips to quiet myself. After all, this is only my first night here—the last thing I need is my neighbor blabbing to my dad about this.
His fingers join his mouth and I nearly sob.
I reach down needing to touch him, but I can’t reach him with my one hand and I can’t move to get to him. Bastard.
“H-Hollis,” I stutter, as he moves his fingers faster, hooking them inside and hitting that special spot. “Hollis, oh my God, please … no … more … oh my God.”
I don’t even know what’s coming out of my mouth at this point. Honestly, I could be speaking Elvish because my brain is officially fried.
My orgasm hits and lights sparkle behind my eyes. My legs shake and my whole body practically convulses with it. I’ve never in my life had such an intense orgasm and that’s saying something because Hollis is pretty fucking good at this whole sex thing. If the music thing doesn’t work out for him he could definitely teach classes on how to give orgasms.
He stands up and gets rid of his jeans.
I nearly whimper when he strokes his cock.
His amber eyes turn to liquid gold. “You like watching me touch myself,” he states.
I nod anyway.
“I like you watching me,” his voice is a husky whisper. “But I told you I was going to fuck those gorgeous tits of yours and I meant it.”
He picks his jeans up off the floor and pulls out a tiny key.
“Don’t think I won’t handcuff you again if you don’t listen,” he warns.
I hold still as he unlocks the cuff and it falls away from my wrist. I rub at it as he frees the cuff from the couch.
He holds the cuffs in one hand and reaches out with his other to take my mine. He helps me to stand—I start to protest, to tell him I don’t need his help, but as I stand I notice my legs are trembling and I do need him.
He releases my hand and uses his to drag down the side of my body, settling at my hip. I look down at his tan hand splayed against the pale color of my skin. He rubs his thumb in circles.
I stand on my tiptoes and he groans, lowering closer to me.
“I want to unravel you,” he growls, “but it’s you who is unraveling me.”
He crashes his lips to mine, stealing my breath, my thoughts, my very being.
