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“You’re a bastard.”
“I am. Undoubtedly. I’m the bastard who’s about to finger-fuck all your objections right out of your pretty head.” I slid my mouth down the side of her neck. “And
maybe your lies too.”
Her thighs clenched around my hand, as if she intended to force me out. She tipped back her head and exhaled sharply, then gripped my hand between hers and shoved it deeper, pushing my fingers right up against where she needed them.
Against an inferno of wet heat, all for me.
I obliged her, parting her swollen folds with two fingers. She reached for her wine and gulped it down as I circled her stiff clit, rotating the pad of my finger over it again and again until she started to squirm against the booth. This wouldn’t take long. She was so soaked that my fingers kept sliding along her folds, making obscene noises I knew she could hear even over the sounds of other people dining. Our booth was somewhat sheltered by a tall divider, but other diners were close by, close enough that if she gasped, they would probably hear her.
“You like to watch other people fuck,” I murmured against the side of her throat while my fingers worked her slippery pussy. “But how about others watching you?”
The waiter returned with our platter of oysters and Grace jolted upward, trying to get away. I clamped my hand over her center, holding her firmly in place with one hand as I spoke calmly to the waiter. Her clit was pulsing so hard I could feel the reverberations against my palm.
Little vixen was turned on by this. She liked me having my fingers on her while the awkward waiter stood by, making small talk with me for the sole purpose of heightening Grace’s arousal.
“I think we’re all set for the moment,” I said, sliding my index finger over her plump clit, gathering the wetness there and using it to fuel my caresses. “What about you, Grace?” I gave her a tight smile. She wasn’t the only one on the verge of combusting. “Do you need anything else right now?”
She shook her head, pressing her lips together until they were white.
The waiter left, and I used my free hand to pry one of the oysters from its shell with the seafood fork. I’d done it so many times that I could do it blindfolded. I pressed the oyster against her closed mouth while my fingers played over her flesh. “Open for me.”
She responded by separating her legs and opening her lips so I could simultaneously push my fingers all the way inside her pussy and slip the oyster onto her tongue.
With one hard thrust, she exploded, her eyes going wide as she fought to swallow the salty delicacy. She gripped her wine glass until I half expected it to shatter, her hips bucking against my hand as I sought to extend her pleasure with slow, deep strokes.
Then she turned her head as if to speak into my ear. Instead, she bit my earlobe hard enough to bruise. “You’ll pay for that.”
I withdrew my hand from between her legs and reached for another oyster, pushing it and the tips of my drenched fingers between her lips. Her eyes shot fire as she tasted it and herself, her sharp teeth scraping my skin. Then I did the same for myself, except I openly licked my fingers once I’d swallowed the oyster.
She shut her eyes on a moan.
“I can’t wait, Ms. Copeland,” I murmured.
Eight
We lingered over dinner. Grace finally relented and tried the Chateaubriand, and the sound she made upon tasting it turned my rock-hard erection into pure agony. She was clearer-headed than I for obvious reasons, so she seemed to delight in my predicament. Her wrist brushed the tent in my pants more than once, though the final time she did it, I held her there until she whimpered and drew her fingers over the tight sac between my legs.
She might not like me ordering for her, but she had absolutely no problem with me taking charge when it came to sex.
When the bill came, I took it without glancing at the total and reached for my wallet. The remaining afterglow in her cheeks faded as she watched me withdraw my card.
“I’ll pay my share. Let me see the bill.”
I didn’t mean to laugh. She, on the other hand, definitely intended to pinch my tensed thigh, which had the unintentional consequence of causing my cock to jerk.
“You’re not paying,” I said through gritted teeth. “So unless you intend to do for me what I did for you, save your touches for another time.”
“This isn’t a date, and I always pay my own way.”
“It’s not a date, and I don’t care what you always do. I ordered, I’m paying. And when we leave here, I intend to fuck you so hard you forget how to argue with me.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Your dick isn’t that big, pal.”
“Oh no?” I grabbed her hand and brought it to the placket of my pants, completely unconcerned about the crudeness of the gesture. Watching her pupils drown out her sea-toned irises was ridiculously satisfying. “Maybe I should start by fucking your mouth.”
She darted her gaze to her hand as it closed reflexively around my shaft. I nearly groaned aloud. Slowly, she licked her lips. “Maybe you should.”
