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He pushes me until my back is resting on the seat.
He lifts my skirt. His eyes taking me in.
Meeting my gaze, he says, “I’ll have to replace these before we leave Paris.”
Rip.
I gasp.
And… there goes my white lace panties.
The man is an animal.
I love it!
Bryce leans forward, slides two fingers into my pussy while his tongue laps at my engorged clit.
Holy fuck.
He’s so ravenous, it won’t take me long to come.
“Please don’t stop, Bryce.”
He has a firm grip on my thighs as he presses his tongue against my clit.
I squirm underneath him, his hold tightens.
He switches things up. His lips massage my clit and I sink into it with a glorious moan.
That ninja move is always my demise.
The build-up blossoms at my core.
When he curls his fingers inside me, I close my eyes shut.
And I’m done.
My climax washes over me like a tidal wave.
“Oh— God—”
He clamps his hand over my mouth, silencing my cries of pleasure.
It takes me a few long breaths before I float back down to the seat.
Bryce doesn’t rush me. He caresses my thighs in languorous strokes.
I’m utterly satisfied.
“Your mouth should come with a damn warning,” I say in a feeble voice.
“Now you know how I feel about yours.”
Bryce rests his head on my stomach, and I exhale a deep sigh.
I can’t help the smile of contentment that stretches my lips.
I’m in heaven.
