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But I don’t touch her right away. She’s a cautious woman about some things I’ve noticed, and it’s only fucking respectful to touch a woman with clean hands. “My fingers are going to be deep inside you, fucking you hard in a few seconds,” I say as I go to the sink and wash them.
She smiles, like I read her mind. “I like your dirty mouth and mind though.”
“I know,” I say, returning to her. “Now tell me, Jules,” I say, praising her as I curl a hand over one gorgeous globe, plucking at the edge of the white lace. “Tell me who owns your orgasms,” I demand.
“You do,” she gasps, wriggling against my hand.
“That’s right,” I say, then crowd her, kiss her neck, and slide my hand around to the front of her panties and under them. She’s so slick and ready. “I knew you’d be soaked.”
“I am,” she whispers. “I want you.”
“You want me to make you come, don’t you?” I ask, rubbing a soft circle on her hard clit.
She shudders. “Please.”
I kiss the back of her neck, line my body up against her, and nip on her earlobe as I stroke. “Count,” I command.
“Sixty,” she says.
Another stroke, another kiss, another shudder.
She counts down from sixty, quickly losing track, as I kiss her neck and fuck her with my fingers till she’s writhing, and moaning, and dangerously close to letting the restaurant know that no one can fuck her like I can—and in under a minute. “Quiet,” I warn her.
“I’m trying,” she whimpers.
“I’ll help you,” I say, then cover her mouth with my free hand as I play with her sweet clit. “Give it to me. Come on my hand.”
Seconds later, she’s trembling and flying over the edge. And there’s nothing better in the world than her pleasure. As she shudders, I lick my fingers, then turn her around, kissing that beautiful mouth. She grabs onto the lapels of my jacket, then gazes up at me. “I want your dick, Finn. Please let me suck you.”
I groan, then run a finger over her top lip. She nips at my finger, and draws it into her lush mouth, sucking, letting me know with words and deeds what she wants. “Let me,” she says, when she releases my finger.
“You’re such a beautiful beggar,” I tell her. “A beautiful beggar with a dirty mouth.”
“Please,” she says in a needy whisper. “Please, let me suck you off.”
“Beg for it,” I demand.
She answers in action, parting her lips in a lingeringO, thrusting out her chest, showing off those tits. “I’m begging you for your cock. Please let me taste it. I want to swallow your come. Want to feel it sliding down my throat. Want to walk out of here after you’ve shoved your dick in my mouth.”
My chest is a furnace. My body is on fire as I shed my jacket and then she’s kneeling on it, unzipping me, and dragging my dick to the back of her throat.
The pleasure is unholy. The clock is ticking. Someone will knock soon. And I don’t fucking care.
She’s too perfect to resist.
I thread my fingers through her chestnut locks. “Look at you. Needing my dick.”
She trembles, clearly loving the praise as she draws me impossibly farther into her warm mouth.
I shake with lust. “That’s right. You take me so fucking well.”
She looks up with eager eyes as she shows off, letting her throat relax so my cock can slide a little deeper. I grip her hair tighter. Hot pulses of electricity jolt my legs. “You want to choke on my cock, don’t you?”
Another savage nod. A fierce yes in her eyes. I curl my hands around her skull, thrusting deeper down her throat. She gags but doesn’t relent, just mercilessly pursues my release. She sucks me until my thighs shake and my balls tighten. My vision blurs and I spill down her throat with a bitten-off groan.
I’m still shaking from the aftereffects as she stands, slams her sexy body against me, and shoves her hand up her skirt. She’s fucking her fingers, chasing another orgasm in this tiny bathroom.
“Mine,” I growl. “That pussy belongs to me.”
