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When I do, he snakes his cum covered tongue inside and twists it with mine.
Tongues dueling, while keeping propped on one arm, my opposite one has a mind of its own and flies to the back of his head so I can get closer. We taste good together. Really damn good. And if how aggressively Zane is into the kiss is any indicator, he would eat our combined juices for breakfast.
He hums into our kiss. The husky vibration goes straight between my legs. My heat seeks his, and I wiggle closer to the edge of the bartop, closer to his ready cock.
But he has different plans. Zane returns his mouth to my wet pussy. Ready to consume me, he starts exploring my folds and clit with the press of his tongue and flicks of its tip.
Already incredibly sensitive and ready to burst again, my thighs tremble around his head. “Are you ready to come for me again?” he mutters.
A hum of approval is all I can manage to get out this time.
He shoves his tongue inside me and slowly thrusts it in and out, pausing only long enough on the exit to set his command with a desperate, “Come.”
My body ascends for him on command, building and building, higher and higher, until it has nowhere else to go but outward.
The tremble in my thighs turns into a quake, and my entire body goes weak, forcing me to hurry and get off of my elbows and forearms or risk falling backward into the sink.
I grapple for his shoulders. He catches on to my struggles, scoops his arm around my back, and holds me like that until I stop shaking and can move properly again.
Only then do I realize that he has his angry cock held firm in his opposite hand. With shaky legs, I wiggle off the bartop, drop into a crouch, and position my face beneath him; if his unlocked kink is cum play, then he ought to really love coming on my face.
I tap my mouth, even knowing no matter how good he thinks his aim is, with how aggressively he finishes, it will likely go everywhere else but.
In the dark room, lit only by the moonlight coming in through the floor to ceiling windows that overlook the sparkling water, the heavy bob of his thick Adam’s apple is more prevalent in the dramatic lighting.
Zane strokes himself just right, fist thrusting nice, slow, and firm at first. When I flutter my eyelashes at him, though, he looks like he might pass out. His strokes get faster and shortened toward the tip of his cock until his balls pull up nice and tight. I open my mouth wider, stick my tongue out flat, and let him paint my face in whichever way he pleases.
My face is not the only thing he paints, though. Cum gets on my collar bone, dribbles between my breasts, and sticks in my hair, too.
Hand releasing his cock, Zane grips the edge of the bartop and swipes his damp curls back with the other hand before dropping his heavy gaze down to assess the delicious mess he made.
I snake my tongue out, swipe up a string of it, and suck it back into my mouth before egging him on with a sultry, “Any other requests, Father?”
With me still kneeling in front of him, his eyes close and nostrils flare. Then he rolls his shoulders, chuckles, and shakes his head. After opening his eyes, he reaches for a paper towel, plucks off a sheet, gets it slightly damp, then situates himself in front of me again, ready to help clean me up.
He does a great job, not missing a spot, but with each new area and streak of cum, his cock grows yet again.
Seems I have finally met my match. Dare I say he might actually have me beat. Tonight at least. I am actually incredibly thankful he is “ready” to be done this time, because I am well and truly coming down from the cocktail of pills I took. With how replete I feel after those two impressive orgasms, the crash is pressing in on me hard.
Exhaustion is settling in, and I still have not made any headway on solving the mystery. I need to snoop around this place, and I need to do it quickly.
My pulse amps up at the thought, and a much-needed boost of fear and panic-induced adrenaline shoots through me as Zane wipes up the last little bit. “Thank you,” I whisper, trying hard to keep the shake out of my voice.
He helps me up, gives me the sweetest kiss on the forehead, tells me he will be right back, then disappears into the bathroom.
Naked as a jaybird, I jolt into action.
Brodi.
Coty.
Kio.
Chaz.
My heart palpitates at the thought of Coty being to blame. So much so that it feels like my chest is hot and bleeding. His betrayal would hurt the worst. For that reason, I go through Brodi’s and Chaz’s stuff first.
Uncaring about making a mess or about leaving proof that I went on a rampage through here, because time hasn’t given me that luxury, I turn their room upside down. Fast. Out of control, I empty out all the pockets of their clothes and gear, shake out their shoes and boots, strip their beds, upend their mattresses. I do everything I can think to do, yet I find nothing.
