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“She’s a good woman,” Kendall said softly. Still, he felt the need to defend her. He loved her, still, despite all of the recent things she’d said, thought, about him.
“But she is not good loving. Her kut, my love, is fuckable, but it is not unforgettable.”
Nairobia’s delicate finger traced over Kendall’s lips. His mouth slightly parted. And then her finger was gone.
“Good woman or not, my darling, your wife isn’t top-of-the-line fucking and she never will be . . .”
Kendall swallowed, his throat working overtime to handle his over-salivating glands.
“I image je lul proeven zoals zoete melkchocolade,” Nairobia said seductively, telling him she imagined his dick tasting like sweet milk chocolate. And then Nairobia smiled. “I will allow you to explore your sexual desires, to release the inhibitions your wife denies you. Would you like that, my darling?”
Hell fucking yeah, he wanted it. And yet Kendall gave her a perplexed look. Was she really saying, asking—
“You want to be wrapped in my heat, no? To drink in my womanhood, to say you have been given pleasure by me, the dick-riding goddess, no?”
The sultriness in her tone made Kendall’s toes curl. He clenched his fist. There was no breathing. Kendall’s lungs begged for oxygen, but he couldn’t think straight enough to inhale for fear he’d breathe in more of her, and then explode inside of his boxers.
Kendall nodded as he swallowed again. And then he let out a nervous chuckle. “Is this for real, a joke?”
Nairobia’s lips curled into a slow grin. “Is your cock hard for me?”
Kendall pulled in his bottom lip and then glanced down into his lap, before crooking his neck and looking up at her, his dark gaze now heated by lust.
“What you think?”
“Then this is real,” she said sweetly, as she lifted herself from Kendall’s back. Nairobia moved so that she was now standing in front of him, so that he could see her as she slid a hand in between the slit of her sheer dress.
Kendall’s dick jumped.
“Listen to my kut, my darling.” Her finger clicked wetly as she teased herself there. Clickety-click-click-click . . . “It sings to you, my love. Can you hear its melody, so wet, so slick . . .?”
Kendall’s dick pulsed. Again and again and again until it became painfully hard trapped beneath underwear and khaki shorts.
He clenched and unclenched his fists, and groaned inwardly, hissing out a curse.
Shit.
Tension sparked the air around them as Nairobia’s hips thrust hungrily, filling his head with her seductive scent.
“Hear that,” she rasped, her accent purposefully thick and heated. “My wet kut is alive and ready to suck you into my womb.”
Kendall was transfixed by her—this mesmerizing sex goddess thrumming with self-pleasure and with want for him. He could hear her fingers wetly clicking between her thighs; God, she sounded fucking juicy—so slick, so ready.
Then she withdrew those slender fingers to her mouth, her eyelids sliding closed as she sucked clean her cream. And then they were gone—those fingers, dipping in her cunt again. Another dip, another suck. Then twice more, before prowling around Kendall again.
She folded her body over his again, her breasts pressed over his shirt, against the muscles of his back. “My arousal thickens for you, my kut aches for you.”
Nairobia’s gray-eyed gaze lifted and she looked right into the mirrored-wall, before kissing a line down Kendall’s jaw, her heated breaths coming in intoxicating bursts. Her tongue flicked over his fleshy earlobe, and then she sucked it between her teeth.
Kendall groaned. He couldn’t believe this, this right here—with Nairobia, was happening . . . to him.
Nairobia licked and then swirled her tongue around the shell of his ear.
“A man like you deserves unforgettable kut, my darling. He deserves unforgettable pleasure.”
Kendall couldn’t dispute her on that. It was what he’d wanted with Krista. It was what he’d been aching for from her, his wife. Sadly, to no avail. Kendall wanted—
“I will lick over your cock and balls; make love to you with my mouth, lips, tongue and hands, sucking out your thick, sweet milk. I will lick where your wife has refused. You want my tongue caressing you there, over your musky manhole, no?”
