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A sharp knock sounded at the door. “Jill?”
“Yes.” It wasn’t a squeak. Not exactly. “I’m just…readying myself for you.”
She didn’t expect his growl. “You better not be. If I find out you’ve had your fingers in your panties when I’m standing out here hard and frustrated, I won’t be happy.”
Stunned, she tucked the condom in her bra and threw open the door. “Say what? You thought I was masturbating?”
As usual, conversation wasn’t at the top of his list.
He yanked her to his chest, commanding her lips so forcefully that she didn’t dare call it a kiss. He ravaged her, more like. Invaded. His tongue plunged and swept through her mouth, tangling with hers while he palmed her ass and dragged her up his body. She didn’t realize she was moving until the rooster clock on the wall whizzed by her peripheral vision and she saw she was about to be banged next to her buffet server.
He set her down and spun her around to face the counter, wasting no time in easing aside the satin between her thighs. With one smooth stroke his fingers were inside her, filling her almost to the point of pain. Her wetness eased the way, as did the focused pressure he applied to her clit, but there was no denying that maybe now might be an appropriate time to admit she was a virgin, and that her oh-so-tiny in comparison wonder wand vibrator didn’t compare to his giant digits—
But then he did something deep inside her, twisting his fingers just right, and the discomfort faded in a hot rush of bliss that weakened her knees. She gasped and gripped the side of the counter, arching into his movements, her head falling forward and her hair tumbling over her face.
“You feel so good,” he said. “Keep rocking on my fingers just like that.”
She dug her nails into the Formica and bounced on his fingers, chasing the pleasure that bloomed every time he bottomed out inside her.
“That’s it. Don’t fight it. I feel you pulsing.” His hot mouth moved down her neck. “You know you want to give it to me.”
She rested her forehead on her fist, willing herself not to tense up as he worked her harder, faster, the scent of her own arousal taking over her senses and making her cheeks burn.
“Damn, your pussy smells so fucking fantastic. I gotta have a taste.”
“No. I don’t think so.” She reared up and banged her head on the hanging pots above her, setting off a chorus of clinking noises that seemed way too close to church bells for her liking. She wasn’t terribly religious, but she’d hung a cross that she’d brought with her from home over the sofa. Jesus was watching her get done doggy-style beneath her mother’s best cookware.
She was so going to hell. Was it wrong she wanted a couple of orgasms—from an actual man—first?
“I think yes.” He gripped her ass and crouched behind her, nipping at the bare flesh between her stocking tops and her panties. She jerked upward and would’ve risked a secondary concussion via the pans if he hadn’t kept up his onslaught between her thighs, slowing down his rhythm until she found herself bucking into his palm, trying to get the friction she needed. “You wanna come, baby?”
“Yes. Please. Yes.”
He pulled her panties down her legs and helped her step out of them. “Then you’re going to take my tongue.” Using his big hands, he widened her stance and replaced his fingers with his mouth, sucking on her with such obvious enjoyment that she couldn’t hold back her moan.
He did make a convincing argument, she had to give him that.
And apparently she also had to give him a healthy taste, since she couldn’t seem to stop riding
his face. It felt too damn incredible. From the sounds he was making and the way he ground his thumb on her clit in rapid circles, he didn’t mind that she was getting into it.
“Bryan,” she gasped, feeling it necessary to tell him the flood was coming and he might want to grab his ark. A poor euphemism for dick, granted, but she had climax brain and couldn’t be expected to hit her metaphors spot-on. “I’m almost—”
“Mmm. You are.” His deep voice rumbled against the most sensitive parts of her, eroding the last of her inhibitions. “Wanna swallow you down. Give it to me.”
She shuddered, her body stringing tight like a bow. She couldn’t catch her breath and had to fight not to run from the avalanche of needs he pressed upon her with each slide of his tongue. She couldn’t take them all, hers or his. It was too much. Too soon. She’d only wanted easy, forgettable pleasure, and he was offering her a memory for the rest of her life.
A roaring filled her ears, drowning out her frantic heartbeat and her greedy moans. Her body bucked endlessly, the ecstasy he brought with lips, tongue, and teeth going on for what felt like forever. And she could only hang on and savor the ride.
By the time he stood, breathing heavily, she’d tensed all over again. In her corset, her breasts were swollen and achy, desperate for some attention. But instead of enjoying the arousal she’d only begun to slake, she had only one thought.
Oh frick, this is going to hurt.
He yanked down his zipper, and yep, she nearly head-butted the cookware again. Luckily she wasn’t quite as jumpy with all those endorphins he’d promised her happily swimming in her bloodstream. In fact, she might’ve even been pleasantly drowsy, if not for her concern that she was about to blow her bad-girl cover with a virgin’s wail of distress.
“Hey. You still with me?” He nibbled the patch of skin between her shoulder and neck, giving her the first illicit feel of his bare, heated skin pressing between her thighs. He wasn’t going for it yet, just sort of circling the wagons to see if the trail was hospitable.
And it was. Oh, it was. The damp trail down her thighs proved that irrefutably.
