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I bring my palms up to my breasts, and he clicks his tongue. "Did I give you permission to touch them?"
Fucker.
I glower at him. He chuckles, then jerks his chin. "You may remove your panties now."
I slide my fingers inside the waistband of my panties, then make a great production of sliding them down my legs. I step out of them, then hold them up on one finger before I throw them at him.
He snatches them up, and of course, he sniffs them.
"Ugh!" I cringe. "You are an animal."
"But I’m your animal, baby." He tosses my knickers aside, then taps his chest. “Come ‘ere.”
"Excuse me?"
"Ride my face, Flower."
"Wh-what?" I blink. "You mean, I should—"
"Not going to repeat myself." He glares at me. "Will you come here, or do you want me to make you?"
I hesitate.
"Come here," he snaps. "Now."
My knees seem to hit the bed of their own accord. Shit, I hate it when he makes my body obey him, even when my mind insists that I do otherwise. I scramble up the bed, swing my leg over his shoulders, then scoot up until I’m poised over his face.
He stares up at my pussy like it’s the most delectable food, like it’s chocolate-covered marzipan. No, more like mince-pies that he gets to see only once a year. Jesus, all this talk of Christmas is going straight to my head. Better than my hips—ha! My core clenches. Or rather my pussy.
He peers up at me from under thick eyelashes. "What did I tell you?"
"To … ah, ride your face."
"So why don’t you?"
I squat over him, unsure. "Ah… I am … you know... Maybe I’m too heavy? What if I suffocate you?"
"Stop hovering there and plant your pussy on my mouth, woman."
I bite the inside of my cheek. "I … I can’t."
He makes a growling sound deep in his throat, then he grabs my hips and pulls me down with such force that I lose my balance. I face-plant—um, is that right word? Hell, it's the only way to describe how I shove my pussy onto his mouth. He holds me there, then takes a long deep breath, inhaling my scent. Heat sluices through my veins.
OMG, this man... He’s so carnal, so ... so real… He doesn’t hesitate to show his desire to the world. He wants it; he goes after it.
And I thought I was like that too. After all, I managed to run away from the Mafia long enough to qualify as a doctor. I would have even started a life separate from theCosa Nostra, if not for my father falling sick. But throughout everything, I have hidden from my desires. Hidden from doing what I might like because I’ve been too conscious about my size.
And here is this guy, making me ride his face, and actually seeming to like it. No, he is eating me up with such intent that there is no doubt he relishes my taste. He drags his tongue up my slit to curl it around my clit. He slurps on my core, thrusts his tongue in and out of my channel. He drags his cheeks across my inner thighs, so the days’ old whiskers on his chin abrade the delicate skin.
My toes curl. I dig my fingers into his hair, trying to pull him away, even as my thighs close around his face in a bid to drag him closer. He squeezes my arse cheeks, and my entire body jolts. He slips his fingers down to play with my back hole, and my core clenches around his tongue.
A growl rumbles up his chest. He thrusts his finger inside my puckered hole at the same time as he bites down on my clit, and I explode. The climax shudders through me, sparks seem to explode behind my eyes, and I sway. Moisture gushes out of me, and he licks up my cum. Drags his rough tongue up my pussy lips and wipes me clean.
"Delicious," he rumbles. "Better than Christmas pudding."
Heat sears my cheeks, but before I can say anything, he hauls me off of him, to the side and on my back, before he settles himself between my legs. He kisses me, and I can taste myself and him, and it’s so potent, yet right, that my head spins. He swipes his big hands up the backs of my thighs then hooks my knees over his shoulders.
"What are you—" Before I can complete the sentence, he’s inside me.
