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As I control her.
As I grip her head.
As I set the pace.
Like she wants me to.
My sweet, submissive—but always on her terms—dirty, little lover.
My thighs burn with pleasure as Gigi licks and sucks, doing all the work. As she swirls her tongue, I punch up my hips, wanting to fill her mouth, to thrust deep.
But a gentleman should make sure such advances are welcome.
“Can I fuck your mouth, love?”
Her answer comes in sparks in her blue eyes, and a speedy nod.
With her permission, I nudge my cock deeper, grip her tighter, and thrust.
I fuck her gorgeous lips, watching her cheeks hollow out, as Gigi takes and takes and I give and give, until my balls tighten, and pleasure charges down my spine, barreling through my body.
“Yes. Fucking yes. Coming. Coming now.” I squeeze my eyes shut as my orgasm pummels me with excruciatingly blissful force.
It annihilates my senses, frying brain cells.
When I open my eyes and stop shaking, I smile woozily at the scene in front of me.
Gigi, with wild intent in her gaze.
Her lips parted.
Her thighs squeezing.
“I need to make you come, love,” I tell her. Since she likes my bossy side, I give her an order. “Stay on your knees.”
“Yes, sir,” she says in a salacious tone.
I tug up my briefs and trousers and move behind her, freeing her wrists.
“Hands and arms in front of you, on the couch,” I say, and she stretches forward, reaching her arms to the edge of the cushion.
Like a good girl, she lifts her lovely arse up, granting me full access.
I move behind her, one knee on the floor, one knee bent, and I yank her knickers to the side to sweep my fingers across her hot, wet pussy.
Fuck, she feels fantastic.
Slippery and warm and so ready.
“Oh, God,” she groans, offering me more, lifting her arse even higher.
Like that, I fuck her with my fingers, thrusting one, then two into her sweetness, playing with her, filling her.
With a moan, her head falls forward, her hips arching and swaying.
But I know she wants more than fingers.
She wants hands on flesh.
I raise my left palm and bring it down hard on her cheek.
She gasps.
I rub another finger against her clit.
Then lift my hand once more, swatting her again.
Another feral moan.
I crook my fingers, hitting that spot that makes her shake. That makes her legs tremble. That makes her cry out.
One more sharp smack, one deep thrust, then she’s falling apart, coming undone, calling my name.
She pants and writhes then sinks down to the floor.
I press a gentle kiss to her bottom. Then one more, savoring the soft skin. I rub gently where I hit her, soothing any ache.
She turns her face to the side, looking lust-drunk and so damn happy. “That was yummy.”
“Maybe now you’ll spend the night in my unfair library. Or, better yet, in my unfair bed, and I can feed you something unfairly fantastic for breakfast?”
I wait, hoping so damn hard. Wanting her yes more than I could have imagined.
Her face softens even more, the expression so lovely and inviting.
Perhaps I’ve convinced her.
I don’t breathe for a few seconds.
But she’s a lion underneath. She shakes her head, shudders out a no. “I want to, but I have to go. The longer I stay, the more I’ll never want to leave.”
She gathers her things, and she…goes.
Dammit.
14
From the texts of Gigi James and West Byron
West: Have you made it home safely, love? I expect a text when you’re all tucked in for the night.
Gigi: Bossy, bossy. *winking emoji* All tucked in, sir.
West: Fuck.
Gigi: No, we don’t do that. We’re just friends, remember?
West: Friends who fuck? Please say we’re friends who fuck. As lovely as everything else tonight was—and it was absolutely fucking lovely—I’m still lying here hard as a day-old scone, dying to be inside you.
Gigi: Considering scones are pretty hard to start with, that sounds serious.
West: My scones are never hard. They’re firm and flaky, yet delightfully dense. Come over, and I’ll feed you one. You’ll see.
Gigi: No offense, but I’m not into scones, either. You’d have to tie me up and hold my nose.
West: That can be arranged…
Gigi: Nope. That’s enough of that. Tonight was fun, but we have to focus. The next event is in four days. Four days, West! And I want to beat you fair and square, not because I kept you up for seventy-two hours straight riding you like a cowgirl at her last rodeo.
West: You. Cowgirl hat. Nothing else. I’m ordering one first thing in the morning.
Gigi: LOL. Go to sleep! That’s what I’m going to do. My focus is where it’s supposed to be—on the contest, not your cock.
West: Or your pussy.
Gigi: Or your hands on my ass.
West: Or the way your throat works when you swallow.
Gigi: God. I loved swallowing you. That whole thing was…so hot.
