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"Yes!" she screams, scratching my skin with her nails, trying to hurt me.
But she doesn't; she only increases my pleasure. And the way I touch her is exactly the way she needs because when I go lower, down to her pussy again, I see that her juices are already flowing out.
I press my lips to her center, sucking her clit as hard as I can, squeezing her ass in my palms at the same time.
She screams and tenses, trying to scissor her legs and moving her hips to increase friction, and I realize that she's going to come any second.
The most responsive woman I've ever seen.
I take her lower lips between my fingers and squeeze them, massaging her clit with my tongue.
It takes a couple circles before she starts shuddering, shaking like a leaf, exploding all over my face.
She's so tasty, so delicious. She's like a dessert, and although I don't like sweets, I could eat this cream the whole day if she'd let me.
I massage her pussy lips, pulling out every drop of her honey, trying to prolong her climax as much as I can, until I feel her muscles start to relax in my arms. Her legs fall to the sides of my body.
This woman is incredible. She's definitely one of a kind, and I almost regret that I never see women twice after having sex with them.
Almost.
I can't let myself do this to her; she doesn't deserve a man like me. She'll probably get married soon, right after graduation, to an Ivy League man who works as a lawyer, plays golf on weekends, and fucks her twice a week.
The man who will be approved by her parents. Someone who's definitely the opposite of me.
"Such a responsive lamb," I whisper into her pussy, loosening my grip and letting her lower lips rest a little before I torture them again. "So sensitive, even though I haven't inserted even one finger into this sweet cunt."
And then I lubricate my middle finger with her juice, and slowly, inch by inch, I insert it into her pussy.
She gasps in surprise, and I freeze.
What I feel inside of her is definitely the opposite of what I've expected.
She's a virgin.
Chapter Five
Savannah
I get up on my elbows, trying to pull away from him, but he grabs me by the hips, not letting me move.
For a moment, we simply stare at each other, and I can see clearly how the lust in his gaze turns into fury.
Like a lion attacking his prey, he jumps on top of me rapidly, without even giving me time to realize what is happening.
"Who are you?" he barks, placing his hand on my throat so I can't breathe.
I freeze; my eyes are locked with his, and the rage inside of those eyes makes my legs cold.
In a second, I comprehend that it's not his hand that’s not letting me breathe because he’s not holding my neck that tightly. It's my inner fear that’s stopping me; it’s paralyzing me.
"Who sent you here?" he roars once again when I still don't say a word.
He lets my neck go, and I gasp for air, trying to get up, but he doesn't let me, pressing my shoulders to the bed.
"How much did they pay you to set me up?"
I don't know what he is talking about. Still, the way his mood changed scares me so freaking much that I already regret coming to this club tonight, despite having had the best orgasm in my life.
