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She sagged over his hot damp shoulder, panting. His hair was silky and fragrant against her face. She sucked in gasps of his scent.
“Ah,” he murmured. “That was amazing. So hot. You squirted girl jism right into my hand. God, I fuckinglovethat.”
“I did?” She lifted her head, bewildered.
He pulled his dripping hand out of her, grinning triumphantly, and stroked himself with it until he looked like he’d been oiled. “Magic juice. Makes me hard enough to drive nails. Hold me, Liv. Squeeze me.”
He dragged her hands up and down his shaft until the slow, pulsing rhythm milked another shining drop of fluid out of him. His penis bobbed in her face. He cupped the back of her head in his hand and tugged, very gently, a wordless question in his eyes.
She let out a nervous little giggle. “You can’t expect me to…oh, dream on! That thing wouldn’t fit in my mouth.”
“I don’t care,” he said. “Kiss it. Taste me. Seal our bargain.”
He stroked the hair on the back of her head, his eyes fixed on hers. She could feel the power of his will, working on her like the huge, inexorable force of a magnet. She gripped him tighter, so that the bulb shone, taut and swollen and hot. Desperately eager for her touch.
He swayed obediently closer, his breath harsh and audible.
She pressed her lips to the end of his penis. Flicked her tongue over the small slit. Licked up the drops of moisture. He shuddered, groaned.Yes.He was salty and good. His body made magic juice, too.
Emboldened, she assaulted him with her tongue. His hands tightened in her hair as she twirled her tongue around the ridge of his glans, flicking at the tender part beneath it, stroking the taut, delicate skin, savoring the metallic taste of his flesh, hot and swollen.
He gripped her hair and tugged her head away from him. “Back off,” he said, breathless. “I’ve got a job to do. You can suck on me later, when I’m exhausted. I’ll fit better then, anyhow.”
“But I’ll be exhausted, too,” she complained.
“That’s your problem, not mine.” He pushed her down onto her back. “Right now, it’s your turn again.”
“My turn for what?” She braced her hands on his hot, hard chest. She could feel the rough puckers and ridges of a scar beneath her hand.
“To touch yourself. I want to watch you come again. I love that.”
She felt desperately exposed as he pressed her knees wide open and stared at her. “Show me how you do it,” he urged.
She swallowed, biting her lips. “But I don’t do it like this.”
“No? Then how do you do it, baby?”
She realized that she had never told this to anyone in her life.
“With my legs closed, tight,” she admitted. “Squeezing really hard. I don’t know if I can do it any other—”
“What if I help?” He seized her hand, guided down between her legs. “Put your hand in your pussy, and I’ll play with your clit at the same time. We’ll get you where you need to go.”
Her fingers slid into the silken, slick opening of her sex, and she fell back onto the bed, staring up at the shadows on the ceiling. He pushed her legs wide, and put his mouth to her.
Her legs flailed, slipping on the satin comforter. His hair tickled her thighs, her groin, his beard stubble rasped her skin, the hot vortex of his lips fastened over her clitoris. He sucked, stroked, swirled. So much intense sensation, her brain couldn’t process it all. She fell to pieces, delicious explosions that went on and on, and he watched it happen, hot-eyed and pleased with himself. His gaze made her feel so vulnerable. The hot quivering began to shake her face, her chest.
Sean didn’t seem turned off by her weeping. On the contrary, when she opened her eyes and dashed away the blur, she found him straddling her, his penis hot and hard against her belly. Waiting.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I can’t seem to stop.”
“It’s OK,” he said. “Lots of girls cry when they come.”
That infuriated her. She tried to shove him off, but he leaned forward, pinning her to the bed. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Lots of girls, huh? Have you had so many that you can run your own personal statistical analyses?”
“Why should that bother you? I’m just a convenient piece of meat for you, right? What difference does it make how many girls I’ve had?”
