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After that day, I called Mitch and forced him to have a conversation with me. I lied to him and told him what happened between Clark and I was a mistake. Because that’s what it was at the time. Mitch did call and ask if I’d heard from Clark. He didn’t come out and say he was worried, but I could tell.
That was two months ago, and still, he’s been missing in action. I finally did some digging until I found out where he was staying. I showed up with the intention of telling him to get the fuck up and stop hiding from everyone, but here I am, naked, on his couch.
And he’s looking at me like he wants to devour every single inch of me. I can’t help the tingle that runs through my body at the thought. He’s down on his knees in front of me and my body is practically shaking in anticipation for what comes next.
He leans down, running his large hands over my legs, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind them, before peppering kisses on the inside of my thigh.
“Jesus,” I mutter, my head falling back against the couch.
I can feel his smirk against my skin, but he doesn’t say anything.
Instead, I’m met with an open-mouthed kiss to my pussy. He drags his tongue across my center and my hands fly to his hair, gripping the strands.
He pushes one finger, then two, inside of me while his tongue swirls against my core. My hips instinctively buck against his face.
My body is already trembling and I can’t even form words to describe the things that this man's mouth can do. Between the nibbling, sucking, and licking I’m falling apart at his mouth in what feels like record time.
“If I could taste you for the rest of my life it wouldn’t be enough,” he growls, leaning back on his feet, staring at me with dark, lust-filled eyes.
“I want you to stop talking and fuck me,” I tell him, breathing heavily.
“Is that so?” He asks, smirking.
I nod in response.
“Bend over,” he says, gesturing towards the arm at the end of the couch.
I stand up, walking to the end of the couch, bending over the side, tossing my hair over my shoulder.
“God damn, beauty, you’re so fucking incredible,” he says, getting up from the floor, positing himself behind me.
His hands grip my waist, yanking me closer to him. One hand leaves my side as he grabs his dick, running it through my wet folds. I shove my face into the couch to avoid screaming out.
“Oh, no. I want to hear you scream my name.” He says, grabbing my hair and pulling my face from the couch.
Desire pools in my belly and I’m fucking soaked at his filthy words. He pulls away from me and I turn around to see what he’s doing.
“What are you doing?” I ask, chest heaving up and down because I’m so fucking turned on I might combust right here and now.
“I’ve got to get a condom,” he says.
“I’m on the pill and I’m clean. Fuck me, Clark. Do I have to beg you?”
His body stills, eyes raking my body. “I would love to hear you beg for it, baby,” he says, stalking back over to me, grabbing my face, lips hovering over mine.
“Please fuck me, Clark. Or I’m going to fuck myself again while you watch.” I tell him, eyes never leaving him.
He shoves me back down, walking behind me, grabbing my hips, his fingers digging into my skin. There’s no warning this time before he pushes himself inside of me.
“Holy shit.” I moan.
“Is this what you want, baby? Do you like it rough?” He growls, reaching a hand in front of me, finger playing with my clit while he continues to fuck me from behind.
“Yes, God, yes.”
“You’re so fucking sexy,” he says, leaning down, biting the back of my neck.
It’s all too much. His mouth on my body, his finger expertly massaging my clit, and his dick hitting me in exactly the right spot.
