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I’m wrong. Burns is coming right at me.
Standing behind me, he hooks his hands under my arms. Next thing I know, I’m on my feet—but that doesn’t last. He swings me up in his arms, carrying me bridal-style across the basement before laying me out on the bed.
Still too naive to understand just what his plans are, I don’t get his ‘dessert’ quip until he moves to the foot of the cot, frame squeaking under his weight as he climbs up. Then, with one of my ankles in each of his big hands, he opens my legs to him. The SPD shirt rode up enough that I’m completely naked from the waist down.
Burns wedges his shoulders in the gap he created, eyes locked on the juncture between my legs.
And I finally understand what he meant.
I try to slam my legs shut. Absolutely impossible with a brawny cop in the way.
He dips his head, leaving no question about what exactly he plans on eating for dessert.
Me.
“Burns,” I squeal. “What are you doing?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” With my legs spread, his mouth inches from my pussy, he looks up at me. “I got a taste of you last night. I licked every damn drop from my fingers, but I was a fucking fool if I thought that would be enough. I’ve thought about doing this the entire time I was on patrol. Are you telling me that you don’t want this?”
I do. Damn it. I wish it wasn’t true, but considering he’s got a front row seat to my pussy, he can tell that I’m already beginning to get ready for him. No denying that the idea of any guy licking me to orgasm doesn’t turn me on, but there’s something so… soheadyabout it being Burns wanting to do it.
But I know better now. Tit for tat, right?
“Wait. Okay? I gotta know first… if you do this for me, what do I have to do for you?”
“Oh, angel… you’ve got it wrong. You let me fuck you with my tongue and I’ll owe you.”
I… he’s joking, right? I’ve been with a couple of guys who would insist on head, then shove their dicks inside of me, bounce a couple of times, then blow their load. If I even mentioned the idea they might want to reciprocate, they acted like the idea of putting their mouth willingly somewhere they had no problem sticking their dick into was a problem.
I got lucky once or twice. A few of my boyfriends were willing to give me a couple of licks here or there. Even they made it seem like they were doing me a favor.
And Burns is—in his stilted way—almost pleading with me to let him do this?
“Just your tongue.”
I admit, this is one slippery slope. I know that.Just your fingers… just one kiss… just your tongue.Sooner or later, it’s going to bejust the tip,thenas long as you don’t come in me…but, right now, I don’t care. While he waited for my answer, Burns blew a gentle gust of air right on top of my mound. If he doesn’t start licking, I might grab his head and shove it right against my pussy.
No need. The second I give him my condition, he grips me beneath my hip, slides me toward him, and buries his nose against me.
Like last night, he doesn’t take it easy. As though he knows exactly how much I can handle, he goes right for what he wants. Between sucking my folds into his mouth, licking the entire length of my slit, and nuzzling my clit, he feasts on my pussy as though I hadn’t just watched him eat an entire meal.
I squeal again the first time he dips his tongue inside of me, fucking me that way like he said he would. When he adds his fingers to the mix, opening me wide so he can lap up every bit of wetness I give him, I go almost cross-eyed with pleasure.
At some point I do give up and close my eyes. I ride out two separate orgasms on his tongue, and when I whimper that I can’t take another one, Burns conveniently doesn’t understand what I’m saying as I pant out my pleas for him to take it easy on me. Why I thought to expect mercy from Mason Burns, I don’t know, and by the time he rips a third orgasm out of me, I’m ready to pass out completely.
Luckily, he finally leaves me alone after I threaten to kick him in the face if he doesn’t. I’m bluffing, of course. With that much pleasure wrung from me, I doubt I could lift my leg at all. It works, though, and as much as I miss his touch, it’s for the best.
I almost fall asleep then and there. The only reason I don’t is because I sense his return and I’m not so sure I can believe that he really doesn’t expect me to reciprocate.
I got off three times. Even more, if you count last night. How much longer until he expects me to do something for him?
“Open wide, Angela.”
My eyes spring open. For a split second, I expect to see his dick in my face.
It’s not. He has a spoon in his hand, lifted in front of my face. He waits until I do open my mouth, then tilts it inside. “Here’s your dessert.”
It’s… cake. Red velvet, my favorite.
