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27
Thayer
“My turn.”
I don’t have time to react to his words before he uses his grip on my hair to pull me to my feet and slam me against the wall.
Then he places his hands on the outsides of my thighs and rubs them down my flesh as he drops slowly to his knees in front of me.
The move is so fucking attractive. I understand why he watched me with such an all-consuming look earlier.
I can feel my arousal leaking down my thigh.
His eyes flick to my legs as his hands flip up my skirt. He brings my hand up and makes me hold the flap up against my stomach.
“Hold it.” He commands, his gaze riveted on my exposed flesh. “You’ve got such a pretty pussy. Exactly the way I pictured it in my mind.”
He moves closer, his hand grabbing my thigh and bending my leg at the knee before he throws it over his shoulder.
“You know how many times I’ve dreamed about licking your pussy, Thayer?”
Blood rushes to my face as the heat in his words makes me redden. He has a way of talking to me with such obsessive passion, it verges on animalistic.
“How many?”
I squeal when he takes the remaining leg I stand on and puts it over his other shoulder, my fingers reaching desperately for his body as it becomes the only thing holding me up.
My back is against the wall, my legs framing his face as it sits inches from my center.
He inhales me and looks up to meet my eyes, pupils blown with lust.
“Every day, multiple times a fucking day.”
His mouth comes down on my pussy, his tongue sweeping up my slit before he sucks my clit between his lips.
He doesn’t give me a chance to take in the feeling before he starts furiously flicking his tongue against my clit like he’s mad at it.
I’m clawing at his shoulders, his hair, simultaneously pushing him away and bringing him closer as I try to make sense of the unbridled pleasure surging through me.
“Mackley,” I say on a whimpered sigh, “That feels so good.”
I’m tilting my hips against his mouth, desperately searching for closer contact as he devours me hungrily.
“What’s my name?”
“W-what?” I ask battling through the haze of lust, confused.
He bites my clit and I almost jolt off his shoulders, but two hands grab my waist and keep me in place.
“What’s my name?” He repeats, grunting out the word against my pussy.
He pulls back from my center, reaching instead for my breasts as he rips the cups of my bra down and pinches my hard nipple between his fingers.
“Please.” I plead, shaking my head as I refuse to say his name.
Bolts of electricity shoot through me with each tweak of my nipples, but he’s no longer touching my pussy.
