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The other falls beside her as she slides her hands down her body again, following the same route I’m dying to take with my mouth. I want to taste every inch of her on the tip of my tongue. I bet she’s sweet everywhere.
She fumbles with the button for a moment before it finally slips free. The zipper inches down. She shimmies her hips, working her pants down her legs.
“Panties too, Skye.”
Might as well get them out of the way. There’s no sense pretending I don’t want her naked and dripping right fucking now.
She hooks her thumbs into the tiny scrap of lace she calls panties and hauls them down her thighs, kicking them and her pants free. Her face is bright red by the time she’s naked, but she still doesn’t hide from me. She faces me proudly, her head high and her shoulders back.
My gaze lands on her bare cunt, and a growl rips from my lips.
“It’s bare.”
“I’m aware. I suffered the whole time my waxer made it that way,” she says drily.
“Why?”
“Um, because I don’t like pain?”
“Why is it bare, Skye?” Jealousy rattles through me. “If you thought you were going to let someone else touch it, you were wrong. It’s mine, Little Who.”
“Calm down, Caveman.” She rolls her eyes. “Have you tried to cram a vajayjay into a bikini with pubic hair? They don’t exactly make the vajayjay parts normal people-sized, let alone plus-size, on those things.”
Jealousy loosens its grip. “Fuck the clothing industry,” I growl. “But just so we’re clear, your cunt belongs to me. I decide when to touch it. I decide how to fuck it. I decide when to eat it. No one else.”
“Oh. Oh, wow.” She squeezes her legs together. “I really shouldn’t encourage this behavior. But, um, can you please decide to do one of the three soon? Maybe like now? I’m dying here.”
“You want to come?”
“Yes!”
“Then lie back on the sofa and spread your legs.”
She slowly lowers herself before inching her legs open slightly.
“Wider,” I growl.
Her thighs part another few inches.
“Wider, Skye.”
Again, she gives me a few scant inches.
I stride forward, bringing my hand down on her thigh in a gentle smack meant to get her attention.
She cries out, jolting upward.
“Spread your fucking legs like a good girl, Little Who,” I growl. “Let me see what belongs to me.”
They fly apart, spread wide this time.
Precum leaks into my boxers at the sight of her pink folds soaked and dripping. Jesus Christ. Her clit is hard and swollen, just begging for attention.
“Good girl. Now, touch your pussy.”
“W-what?”
“Touch yourself,” I order. “You’re going to make yourself come on that perfect little hand while I watch.”
