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“Get your hands off me, Archer.” I push him back with my hand on his hard chest, and all he does is smile and doesn’t move an inch.
Despite my words, James starts his feast on my neck. His open mouth kisses devour me, flooding me with deep lust and wet thighs. My head leans on his arm still holding the back of my neck, giving him better access to those spots that turn me on like a million fucking light bulbs.
“James, this is wrong, we need to–”
“Measure your next words wisely, Rose. I’m not playing cat and mouse anymore. Tell me to stop and I will. Right now.” He buries his steely gaze deep within mine, and I’m lost in those pools of blueish silver.
Fuck, he’s irresistible! How come I am just realizing this now?
I can’t speak. I can’t condemn myself with the words I know should be coming out of my mouth. Instead, I place my hand on his arm, holding on for dear life for whatever is to come. I bare my neck in silent permission, but James doesn’t kiss me there anymore. He doesn’t even move to resume his assault. Maybe I’ve fucked it up with my doubts.
“Good girl!” He praises me instead. There’s a strange sense of pride filling my chest as I hear those words coming out of his mouth completely unprepared for the crudeness of the ones to follow. “Now I’m going to eat your pussy.”
Fuck. Me.
James drops to his knees and pulls my dress out of the way, taking his time to appreciate the view before moving. I involuntarily close my legs together and he reaches up to pinch my hard nipple in punishment.
“Don’t hide, buttercup, this pussy is mine to have now.” He tugs my legs apart and my hand darts to his hair as I steady myself, his first lick almost making me lose my ground. I’m so turned on it’s ridiculous.
He hooks my leg over his shoulder, giving him better access to my throbbing pussy. I can feel the wetness sliding down my inner thigh, I’m just waiting for the snarky comment that will assert his victory. His tongue is wide and warm, and perfectly trained. He knows exactly where to lick, where to flick and where to twist.
He thrusts it into me, tasting me from the inside out, taking turns between fucking me with it and licking my lips. He’s holding me by my ass, pulling me against his face as he eats me out at will.
“You taste better on my tongue than you did on my fingers,” he mumbles. Vibrations from his low-toned voice sending shivers up and down my spine.
“Fuck.” I’m panting and beginning to lose control of my moans. James is a fucking expert. I can’t remember the last time I’ve enjoyed this as much.
Without warning, he stands and picks me up, my leg still hooked over his shoulder, and sits me down on the large vanity, spreading me wider for his delight. His face holds nothing but lust and desire, a mask of pleasure I’ve never seen him wear for me.
Again, he is on his knees, his mouth latched on to my clit while two fingers slowly poke at my entrance, prying in just a little.
“Oh God!” I moan again before clasping my mouth with my hand.
“I want to hear them all, baby, but right now you have to keep quiet.” He latches back on, but this time his lips are on my mound, just above my clit. He sucks on my clear, bare flesh as hard as he can, making me wince just a little. He’s marking me with a hickey.
He smiles up at me once he’s done, flashing his perfect set of pearly whites between those plump and swollen lips glistening with me all over them. He holds my gaze, watching me attentively as he buries those two fingers deep inside me, my mouth dropping open in a gasp of pleasure.
As soon as he’s knuckles deep, his tongue is back on my clit, flicking and licking and rolling and just plain out drawing the life out of me, while his fingers pump in and out. I’m not a prude, I’ve had sex many times, but this, with him, just feels so different than anything I’ve ever experienced. Maybe because it’s so, so wrong.
Fruit from the forbidden tree.
“Oh fuck, James.” I feel myself clenching as all my muscles tighten, anticipating my release. My hands are fisting his hair now, not minding if I’m messing it up, my hips trembling under his unrelenting tongue, trying to meet his thrusts with the urgency of a pending orgasm. I’m on the brink of the precipice for what seems like forever, James purposefully missing his tongue’s target to prolong this limbo, dangling me over insanity. I’m only coming when he’s good and ready.
He bites down on my sensitive nerve, holding it between his teeth as he flicks his tongue over it.
Once.
Twice.
It doesn’t take a third for me to shudder in ecstasy.
My back is arched as far as it can go, my head pressing against the mirror behind me so hard I’m scared it will break.
I’m pulling on James’ thick, dark hair, riding his face as well as my orgasm. I manage to control my moans, but just in volume. They are leaving my mouth hushed between my clenched teeth, my bottom lip stuck between them.
I’m a mess. A panting, shaking, hyperventilating, coming-down-from-my-high, utter mess and James is smiling at me.
“Fuck that was hot,” he mutters, and only now do I realize he watched me come, not missing a second of my shameful show.
