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There arepinpricks of pain in my ankle.
Again.
And growling in the air.
Again.
But I’ve got my mouth on the most glorious set of tits I’ve ever seen and—
“Lake!” she cries out, clenching at my hair, arching against me, pulling my head down as if she can’t get enough of my mouth.
And maybe she can’t, considering the way she’s grinding against my pelvis.
But her calling my name out means that the pain in my ankle increases, the fucking demon of a dog activated to full asshole mode as he clamps down. I grunt and she immediately loosens the hold she has on my hair, the apology already forming on her face. “Not you,” I say around her nipple, meeting her eyes, ordering, “Harder, butterfly.”
Her fingers tighten.
The sting at my scalp increases and my cock twitches, loving the slight bit of pain, wanting more, wanting everything this woman can dish out.
I press my teeth lightly into the taut bud of her nipple.
“Oh God!” she moans, nails biting into my scalp.
My cock’s happy for one moment—and only one moment—because then Steve presseshisteeth into my ankle. I grunt, and it’s not in pleasure, it’s not my cock loving that bit of pain. It’s because it’s a fucking distraction, and it’s because that tiny demon is trying to cockblock me.
It’s because the little asshole’s grip hurts, and not in a good way.
I suck at her nipple, not gently, because she seems to like that bit of pain as well, because the tiny demon is treating my ankle like a chew toy and I need that shit to stop, andI’mnot stopping until she comes apart beneath me.
I slide my hand down her side, over her belly, shoving it beneath the waistband of her sweats and into her underwear.
Slick,slickheat.
Wetter than I expect, sopping, soaking wet, fuckingdripping.
I forget about my ankle.
I focus on the bundle of nerves at the apex of her pussy, and the fact that she really likes it when I press my thumb to the spot.
That she cries out my name again when I slip one finger into her tight cunt.
She clamps around me, pussy and thighs, hands in my hair, and then I feel it.
Her orgasm closing in on her.
In the gush of desire coating my palm, my finger, making it so I can slip another in without resistance, can slide a third into that tight sheath.
My name dances off the tip of her tongue.
Her body undulates against mine.
Throbbing in my ankle. In my cock.
I keep working her breasts, keep thrusting my fingers into her pussy, keep pressing my thumb to her clit.
And—
Finally.
