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And he goes right for the fucking throat.
“You fucking like that, don’t you?”
A dark laugh spills from his throat, like cold water onto black ice.
“Admit it, Emilia.”
His fingers probe deeper still, and I cry out as they find what he’s been looking for.
Bingo. Yatzhee. Jackpot.
The sound of my whimper is muffled by the pink lace of my La Perlas, stuffed between my lips and wet against my tongue.
Evan leans into me. His lips are only a fraction of an inch away from the place where my neck meets my jaw.
“Ah…that’s right,” he purrs. “You can’t, can you? Christ…I hope you know what a fucking snack you look like right now with your pretty little panties in your mouth.”
I bite down on the lace between my back molars as I try to shift my hips away.
There’s an orgasm on my horizon. Especially if he keeps talking to me like that.
And god. I seriously do want him to keep talking to me like that.
Especially when he just keeps fingering me harder in spite of my struggles.
“Taste yourself, beautiful,” he hisses in my ear. “Taste the evidence of how fucking wet you are for me while you come around my fingers…and I’ll give you what you want.”
I close my eyes, breathing heavy…and I do it.
I let the taste of my honey register on my tongue.
Tangy, salty, sweet and musky.
I’m a fucking dessert right now. Apple. Caramel. Vanilla. Coconut.
“Come for me, Em,” Evan growls. “Come for me, and tell me what you want.”
Fuck. The sound of his voice makes my fucking cunt spasm.
And after that?
After that, it’s all over.
“Mmmphf!” I moan, tossing my head back against the leather back of the armchair.
My pussy is in a world made of pink-hot heat, and I can feel my honey gushing over his fingers as my whole body spasms, soaked in warmth. The orgasm rips through me, violently and passionately, and with an equal force to every other orgasm I’ve had right up until this point—combined.
Evan tears his fingers away and drops to his knees again, lapping hungrily at my throbbing, dripping pussy with his hot, thick tongue.
He grabs onto my hips as my orgasm fades away into desperate little gasps.
I’m shaking. He’s bristling with unspent energy.
And as he rips himself away from my pussy, he looks up at me like he knows exactly where he wants to expend every ounce of it.
“You’re taking my cock,” he tells me.
Not ‘Do you want it, babe?’ and not even ‘Tell me you want my cock.’
