Page 27 of Profit & Lace


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“Oh I’m hungry,” he says.

The breath from his words is ghosting over my wet pussy, making me shiver with delight.

“What man wouldn’t be?” Derek asks.

I shudder again at the warm breath from his mouth brushing over me. I don’t answer his question, I’m pretty sure it’s rhetorical, anyway. Besides my brain doesn’t have any room to formulate answers, it’s filled with thoughts of what Derek’s about to do to me. Those thoughts are sending flames of desire spiraling through me. God, does Derek even know what he’s doing to me?

Derek lets out a long slow breath and I can’t hold back a groan. Oh he knows exactly what he’s doing to me. I try to move. I try to squirm that last inch between Derek’s face and my pussy, but his strong hands grip my thighs. I’m not moving unless Derek wants me to, and right now it seems that Derek just wants to drive me crazy.

“That was quite a little show you just gave Eliza. No wonder Carter wants you all to himself, but you’re mine tonight aren’t you?” I can hear the smirk in his voice, even if I can’t see it, and this time I know the question isn’t rhetorical.

I try to force my mind to focus on something besides the aching need between my legs. I know Derek wants to hear me. He wants me to say I’m his before he gives me what I want. Just like I told Carter, I don’t belong to anybody. Still I don’t want this to end, and even though I’m fairly certain Derek doesn’t want that either, I’m not going to risk pissing off a horny alpha male when I know I’m only a few words away from another mind-blowing orgasm.

“That depends,” I say.

“On what exactly?” Derek asks.

It’s a question, but it definitely comes out sounding like a challenge.

“Well,” I say, “a girl does have to weigh all her options carefully before she goes all in.”

“ Mhhmm,” Derek exhales another breath against my hot pussy.

“I guess it depends on how much I like my dessert.” I’m going for challenging with my tone, but Derek exhales again and my voice comes out as more of a desperate moan.

“Please.” It’s a plea that escapes my lips before I can swallow it.

It’s enough to get Derek’s mouth on me. His lips lick a trail of wet kisses up my inner thigh, teasing me by not putting those lips where he knows I want them. After what seems like an eternity I feel Derek’s tongue where I need it most. A long slow lick up that ends with the flick of his tongue over my clit. My hands come down, gripping Derek’s hair as his tongue parts the wet folds of my pussy. Derek lets go of my hips and brings his hands up to my breasts to play with my nipples, while using that incredibly talented tongue to drive me insane.

Every lick of Derek’s tongue is driving me closer and closer to the edge. It’s so good. My hips tilt up and press my pussy into Derek’s face, seeking more pleasure. I feel wildly out of control. Derek’s mouth is driving me insane in the best possible way. I totally get why Derek is a fucking legend, literally. Once again he takes control of my body, grabbing my thighs and holding me just where he wants me. Derek runs his tongue from the top to the bottom of my dripping pussy, enthusiastically pushing his tongue inside of me. Derek licks my pussy like it’s the sweetest dessert money can buy, like he wants to taste every single inch of me.

Running his tongue back up my lips, Derek swirls his tongue in circles around my clit, before pulling it between his lips and sucking it. Derek works my clit until I’m nothing but a writhing, shuddering mess of need and desire. Then his fingers, those long, thick, strong fingers slip back inside me, hooking and brushing right against my G-spot. My hips tilt up and I squeeze my eyes shut as the white pleasure that’s been building inside me, explodes.

When I open my eyes, Derek is looking up at me all smug, confidence. I want to say something smart, and tell him that just because he’s given me two mind-melting orgasms doesn’t mean I’m going to say I’m his, but my brain isn’t quite up to the task, still foggy with the pleasure of my last orgasm. Still I’m not going to let Derek get away with being smug. I’m Eliza Seymour, after all, not some virginal intern. I think it’s time I have a little dessert.

Derek is sitting across from me with his legs spread, rubbing what looks like a truly massive erection through the front of his pants.

“You look a little sleepy Eliza. Past your bedtime?” Derek asks.

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