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Molton heat clouds his hooded gaze, sending a lone shiver zinging up and down my spine. “These are mine, aren’t they, Bambi? These perfect tits are mine to play with however I please?”
Words escape me. I want to scream fuck yes, but my vocal cords aren’t heeding the frantic plea bouncing around inside my brain. A growl builds in his chest, emanating throughout the bubble we’re encased in when I don’t respond quick enough.
Leaning forward, he blows a puff of warm air over my taut skin before flicking my nipple with the tip of his tongue. I about jump off the barrel as my body flies into a torturous overdrive.
My head is nodding vehemently before the thought crosses my consciousness. “Yes,” I croak. “Yours.”
It seems that’s all he needed to enact his devilishly delicious plan. He attacks my nipples with ruthless abandon. There is simply no other way to describe it. I curl my hands beneath me, using the pinch of pain to ground myself when I feel as if I might float away … all from just his sinful mouth. God, what’s going to happen when his cock is thrusting inside me?
I arch my back and press my chest into his hold, chasing more. He doesn’t disappoint, reading me like a man who knows my body well, lavishing each breast with absolute attention. His tongue alternates between the flattened pad to lick languid strokes over my diamond hard nipples and the tip to flick lashes against them. When I’m nothing more than a panting, writhing mess, he sucks one nipple into his mouth and bites down. I cry out, the sharp sting razing through my over-sensitized nerves.
He chuckles darkly, keeping my tortured peak between his teeth and rolling it side to side. Goddamn, I’ve never been so turned on in my life. How is this possible? I’m on the cusp of orgasming just from him playing with my breasts, that can’t be real. And yet, when he slips his hand into my bikini bottoms, gliding a single finger through my soaking folds to barely graze my clit, I detonate. Sparks fly in my darkening vision like a macabre fireworks show. My back bows off the barrel, legs tightening around his waist as my muscles stiffen. Words in a language that doesn’t exist tumble from my lips in a chant to everyone and no one at all.
There is no time for reprieve, not when the tattooed giant’s thick fingers spear me, scissoring against my pussy walls while his thumb presses down on my clit, milking my first orgasm and building another.
“Fuck, you’re breathtaking when you fall apart, Bambi. I need more. I want your taste branded on my tongue, your arousal coating my cock like it’s drenching my fingers right now.”
He uses his free hand to pull against my bikini bottoms and I blurt out, “Cocksucker,” thankful I have enough wits about me to remember it.
His brows jump comically high and he stills. An airy giggle gets trapped in my throat. I’m sure my safeword wasn’t meant for this, but fuck it. “I love sunflowers and this is my absolute favorite bikini. I don’t trust that you won’t just rip my bottoms off in a bid to get me naked faster. Let me remove them for you.”
His jaw tightens, lips pressed together in a thin line. He mutters to himself in Spanish and nods before stepping back and running a hand through his hair. Thankfully not the same hand that was just inside me a moment ago or we’d have a There’s Something About Mary situation going on.
“Wait, are there cameras in here?” Of course this thought occurs after I’m half naked in front of him.
His head whips around and he smirks. “Why isn’t your expression one of unease? Does the thought of being watched turn you on, little doe?”
I nibble on my bottom lip and hop off the barrel onto shaky legs. I’m not against the idea of being watched … I’ve just never experienced it. I won’t deny that the thrill of being caught is tantalizing.
With intentional slowness, I bend forward and slide my bikini bottoms down my legs, keeping him locked in my heated gaze. When I’m fully bared to him, I l toss the soiled garment at his chest. He catches it, brings it straight to his nose and inhales deeply. Fuck, that’s hot.
“So goddamn delicious,” the tattooed giant praises, stuffing them into his pocket.
I open my mouth to protest—ready to throw down because there’s no fucking way I’m letting him keep my favorite bikini bottoms—but all that comes out is a startled yelp as I fly through the air and land on his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. My breath is knocked out of me, and the space around me spins. I groan and wiggle in his hold, hissing when his hand comes down on my ass … hard.
“Quit moving.”
He adjusts his hold on me as we enter the tasting room, and swipes a couple of towels from the counter on the right. I have half a mind to pinch his hard ass, but I’m also keen to see where this is going, so I’ll play nice … for now.
Stopping in front of the wooden barrel that was lined with shot glasses and tequila earlier, he spreads the towels out and drops me on top. I grip his shoulders so I don’t fall off while I wait for the room to right itself. Blinking quickly, I dispel the remaining blurriness and smile sweetly at Mr. Grumpy Pants, sadly removing my hands from his adonis-like body. His perpetual scowl is in place, but the embers of lust and dark desire blaze a path along my skin as his eyes roam over me. One might think he was having a hard time controlling himself from the pained expression twisting his features the longer he gets his fill of my naked flesh.
With a shake of his head, he walks away and grabs a chair, dragging it back over and sitting down in front of me. “Touch yourself. Show me how you bring yourself to ruin, so you understand that my fingers, tongue, and cock will always do it better.”
A challenge.
A promise of untold pleasure and a bit of fun if I obey. Fuck it, if he wants to watch me play with myself, who am I to deny him? Leaning back on one elbow, I drag two fingers through my folds and collect some of my dripping arousal, spreading it around my pussy before plunging into my weeping core. Slow, unhurried strokes quickly morph into frenzied ones as I chase after my release. Using the heel of my hand, I rub against my tight bundle of nerves and moan as that familiar electricity sparks within me, pushing me towards oblivion. It’s nothing near as mind blowing as what my pliant body does under his touch, but I know how to work myself up—which buttons to press and how hard.
My mouth goes dry when the tattooed giant pulls out his monster cock from his pants and strokes it languidly, squeezing the tip to collect precome and spread it down his shaft. He’s yet to look away from the hand I’m touching myself with, and that alone sends me to the edge, knowing he’s getting off on watching me fuck myself. Shit that’s an aphrodisiac.
“Stop,” he barks and I startle, lost in the sensations overwhelming me.
“You won’t come until I allow it.”
I open my mouth to argue and he jumps up, grabbing my chin and stuffing my bikini bottoms inside. “You. Will. Not. Come. Until. I. Allow. It,” he growls. “Nod your head if you understand, Bambi.
I nod and pull my fingers from my core, lifting them to him in offering. Time suspends as he licks my fingers clean, praising my taste. He’s not wrong, the hint of my arousal on my tastebuds is unique and nothing like I thought. Salty and earthy, but with a sharp, almost citrusy tang.
The tattooed giant rips my bikini bottoms out of my mouth and kisses me silly. It’s equal measures demanding and punishing, as it is praising and searching. I give as good as I get, swirling my tongue with his in a dance of mutual desire.
