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Tilting my head, I half-tease, “What if I don’t want to answer your questions?”
“Then you aren’t seeing my tits or ass.”
Well, damn.
I didn’t think both would be involved, but if she puts it like that.
“Do I get to touch as well?”
Blue smirks. “Depends on your answers.”
My fingers tighten on the crop.
Swallowing down the intense need this woman drags out of me, I tap the end of the crop against my leg. “What were your questions again?”
“Where have you been?”
Crossing the room to step up to her, I place the crop on the bench then tug at her corset. “Start unbuttoning and I’ll talk.”
Her lips twist into an adorable pout, but her fingers get to work.
“My friends have been playing prison guard keeping me in sight. Not sure why. But I was released on my own recognizance tonight, so I rushed over to see you.”
Yes, I’m a liar.
No, I don’t feel bad for it.
Fuck off if you have a problem with what I’m doing or why.
Nobody can possibly understand what this woman does to me.
I don’t understand what this woman does to me.
But I’m like a moth to a flame. Too bad for Blue, she’s the one who’ll end up getting burned.
Her corset hits the floor, then I grab her ass with one hand, lift her up so she can wrap those long, strong legs around my waist, press her against a wall to hold her weight, then lean down to suck a nipple into my mouth, resisting the urge to bite down.
Her fingers stab into my hair, and my dick comes to life. I hope she likes it hard and fast because that’s about all the time I’ll have before telling her the reason I’m here.
Blue wraps her arms around my neck as I place one hand on the wall to balance us and use the other to palm her other tit, the weight of it made for my hands. Blue’s breasts are high and tight, homegrown and not surgically enhanced. They drive me crazy every time I see just a hint of them.
“I have other questions,” she says, already struggling to pull in a full breath.
Lifting my head, I plant a kiss on her jaw before nipping at the skin with my teeth. “That’ll cost you.”
I grind my body between her legs, and she lets out a small squeak.
“I have more questions than clothes. That may be a problem.”
“Not if you include favors in the deal.”
I’m a jackass and I already have a first-class ticket straight to hell. What’s one more sin on top of the others?
“What kind of favors?” she asks, a moan rolling over her lips when I squeeze her breast.
The kind you probably won’t like.
But I keep that to myself like a bastard.
