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“That was it,” she moaned as the circle grew inward, so close to her straining nipple, but he didn’t touch it.
“Are you wet for me, dirty girl?” he whispered into her ear, his voice smooth and heady and making her eyes roll back in her head.
“Yes,” she panted.
“How wet?” he asked, his teeth biting her lobe lightly, sending a shot of fire straight to her core. Amara moved one hand to relieve the ache between her legs, only to have him trap both her hands in one firm grip behind her, arching her exposed breast higher for his infuriating circles close to her nipple.
“Why don’t you find out?” she goaded him, needing him to touch her.
“I will,” he assured her. “But tell me first, are you leaking over your thighs?”
“Yes,” she admitted, feeling the wetness pooling.
“And if I ate you out, you’d drip over my chin?”
Dear gods of foreplay, his filthy dirty mouth turned her on.
She nodded.
“Say it,” he commanded.
“Yes, I’d drip over your chin,” she spoke, the words, the visual, his finger driving her crazy.
She felt his scruff brush over the side of her face, the sensation new and thrilling, as he asked, “Does my dirty girl need a dirty fuck?”
God, yes. Yes, she needed one so bad. It had been months.
She nodded.
His finger completed another revolution around her nipple. “You know the best part? I’m going to fuck you bare and come deep inside you. Do you want that?”
“I do,” she breathed.
He let her arms go and stepped back, leaving her slightly disoriented. Before she knew it, he pushed the other strap down, her dress falling to the floor, leaving her naked in broad daylight while he stayed fully dressed in his suit. He picked her up, put her on the table and taking a seat on the bench, pulled her right to the edge, pushing her thighs back and opening her up.
The sunlight fell on her skin, warming her, highlighting every single scar on her body in stark relief. She saw his dark eyes rove over every single one of them, before stopping between her legs.
Although they had done it a hundred times over, her heart still beat like a drum, her body ready and on edge for him. He bent his head, licking the length of her with the flat of his tongue, the sensation making her arch her back on the table.
“Oh god,” she breathed out. “Don’t stop.”
He slowly dipped in again, his tongue diving inside her, tasting her, eating her like she was the finest dish and he was a man starved. Shivers coursed up and down her spine, her skin warming with the sun on the outside and burning with the heat he ignited from the inside, the dual sensation sending her racing towards the edge of the cliff, secure in the knowledge that he would catch her.
He started writing the alphabets on her nub with his tongue, pushing her closer and closer.
She crashed on the D.
Gripping his hair, her spine arching as she pushed her hips closer to him, she felt her orgasm roll over her – quick, hard, fast – quicker than it had ever been before.
Languid from the pleasure, she saw with hooded eyes as he straightened, unzipping his pants, his mouth wet from her juices, and gripped her u
nder the knees, pushing her legs back until she was almost bent in half, her heart beating like crazy as he plunged into her.
A moan left her, her voice straining as his length speared her, his thickness stretching her walls, her inner muscles fluttering as he pulled back, sinking in deeper.
“Hold your legs open,” he instructed her, and she placed her hands under her knees, obeying the command. He bent over her, weight on his forearms at the side of her head, careful to not put any pressure on her stomach, his pelvis rubbing against her in the position, his dark eyes on her face.
He pulled out and snapped again, sending her body slightly up on the table.
