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“Lay on the table.” He nods toward the table then stands and removes the pizza box and our two beers, discarding them on the kitchen counter. He turns his chair around and slides it between us to give me a step then offers his hand to help me.
I freeze and give him a sideways look.
“We eat here.”
His smirk grows.
“Yes, we do.”
Fuck me.My center throbs at his suggestive reply, and as he licks his lips I can’t help but imagine that tongue trailing up and down my pussy.
I take his hand and step up on the chair then turn to sit on the table. I hope this isn’t some family heirloom or a piece that Matt or Ivy plans on keeping for years to come because I have a feeling—a very hopeful feeling—that Cutter and I are about to ruin it.
I lean back on my palms and arch my back slightly so my tits are on full display. My knees bent, I slide my feet down the top of the table as I lower myself until I’m lying flat, like a feast ready to be eaten. Cutter slides his chair out of the way and steps up to the table’s edge as if he’s the doctor and I’m his patient. He opens my shirt up wide and lowers himself until his mouth is less than an inch away from my pebbled nipple. He blows cool air against my tender skin and I writhe at the sensation. He stands back then and drops his hands in his pockets before staring at me with this satisfied expression, one earned by leaving me on the verge of begging. That’s what I get for saying no all those years ago.
“Your turn,” he pronounces, meeting my heated gaze with his own. I see what he’s doing. He wants me to ask for it. But if I ask, then in a way, he wins.
“Truth or dare, Cutter.” My voice comes out raspy, and his face betrays him with the tiniest wince in reaction. He likes it.
“Truth, Laney. Ask me anything.” His hand moves to cover his very obvious hard-on, and he strokes himself slowly through his joggers. My memory of how hot he felt through our clothes sends a shockwave through me and makes me even wetter between my legs. I let my knees part a little for relief and to draw his eyes to where I desperately want him.
“Do you want to fuck me, Cutter McCreary?”
Without hesitation, Cutter groans and grabs himself more forcefully, running his hand over his hard cock while his eyes bore into the lace trim of my panties and the insides of my thighs.
“Yes. Very much,” he says, moving back to the edge of the table. He walks to the end, where my feet play against the woodgrain. His palms flatten against my shins, then drag down to my ankles where he grips me tightly before shifting his gaze to mine. He lifts a brow.
“Dare,” I say for the third time.
“Lie perfectly still. And if you move, everything will take longer.” His voice comes out almost possessive, dark, and heavy, and I shift my hips just from the sound of it. “Ah, bad girl.”
“Oh,” I whimper before bringing the back of my palm to my mouth to muffle the sounds I fear I’m about to make. Cutter leaves my ankles and steps up to where my head rests flat on the table, my long brown hair fanned out to match the walnut wood. He peels my hand away from my lips and stretches both of my arms above my head, layering my wrists one over the other before looking straight down into my eyes.
“Do not move,” he commands. I blink, and he smirks. “I’ll allow that, but that’s it.”
Cutter leans down again, hovering an inch away from my mouth then moving down the length of my neck to my clavicle then my other nipple, once again hitting it with cool air blown through his puckered lips. I tuck my chin slowly as I bite my bottom lip, not wanting to get caught but desperate to know what’s coming next, where he’s moving.
He trails his soft breath down the center of my body, over my stomach and over the wet cotton strip of my panties. Soon, he’s back at the foot of the table, and his hands are creeping up the sides of my legs, flat palms sliding along my calves, then my hipsand soon, his fingers are playing at the thin straps holding my panties in place.
His fingers curl around the strings and slowly drag the material down my hips, tugging to not make me move to assist him. He drags the garment down my legs until it’s free from me, and he tosses it to the floor before returning his hands to the inside of my legs this time.
I can feel the needy cry begging to leave my chest, but I mask it under my heavy pants. Cutter meticulously curls his fingers around my ankles again, squeezing tightly then pulling my body down the length of the table until my knees meet the edge. He pushes my legs apart and drops to one knee so his mouth is inches away from my swollen pussy. Once again he blows, and rather than cry out, I lean my head back as far as I can and take in the sensation.
I never knew how hot not being touched could be. I’m about to be undone completely just from anticipation. In fact, I hope his touch never comes. I’d rather see how long this feeling can last.
I get my wish as Cutter spends the next several minutes almost touching my most sensitive skin—my aching center, my raw and hard nipples, even my mouth. Through it all, I nearly obey his dare, barely moving an inch except when his tongue finally reaches a fraction too far and tickles the inside of my thigh close to where I want him to devour me.
“Truth or dare, Cutter,” I finally say, unable to handle much more. My body is on the verge of exploding, and from what I’ve been able to see, Cutter isn’t too far behind.
“Dare,” he growls, pouncing over me and caging me between his palms as he stares down at my tits.
“Own me.” I say the words loud and slow, and his eyes drift up to meet mine I think to be sure he heard me right. I lift my chin and arch my back, which gives him what he needs to breakhis own leash and drop his mouth over my breast, suckling my nipple and swirling his tongue around the hard peak until it’s numb.
I hiss, arching my back more and coaxing his hands to move around my back. They do, and he pulls me into his mouth, moving from breast to breast, biting my nipples softly and holding them hostage one at a time with his teeth while his tongue flicks the tip. I cry out the sound I’ve been holding back finally and Cutter pushes me to my back, flattening me on the table with a hand over my breasts as he drops back down to a knee and licks my pussy in one long, tortuous stroke before sucking the raw, swollen center so hard that it makes a pop when his mouth breaks free.
“Oh, fuck!” I bring my wrist back to my mouth and bite my own skin to temper my sounds as Cutter does it again, this time flicking his tongue up and down my clit before sucking it in once more. His tongue dips inside me after that and he pulses in and out, pushing me toward climax until I’m completely out of control. Just as I’m about to fall over the edge, he pushes his finger into me and curls it to put pressure against the most sensitive spots as his tongue flicks and his mouth sucks. I arch my back hard, lifting half my body from the table and Cutter pummels me with his hand and draws the orgasm from me, holding me to the table and forcing me to take every single lick until the waves stop and I can breathe again.
I lift my head, dizzy from the sweet torture he put me through, and find him getting to his feet and pulling his cock from his pants. He holds himself in one hand and grabs my hip with the other, his fingers digging into my skin as he strokes himself three times before coming on my stomach and letting out a deep growl.
