Chapter 16 #4
I swirl my mouth all over her, careful to only graze her clit, not quite giving in to what she wants just yet. She deserves a little punishment for what she's put me through, and a little sexual frustration is a small price to pay.
But with each labored breath, her sweet juices coating me as her body aches with want, I find myself unable to withstand giving in.
I maintain a hold on her with my left shoulder and arm, and free my right hand to return it to her aching pussy.
I penetrate her, using the friction of the drenched underwear to fuck her hole and suck on her swollen clit.
Her entire body tenses and rattles, her orgasm hitting her hard and fast, the most beautiful moan leaving her and filling this parking garage staircase.
I finger fuck her all the way through it, not letting up when her clit pulsates against my tongue.
I smile and savor her taste, knowing damn well this fleeting moment is soon to end.
"Oh. My. Fucking. God," London says.
Carefully, I release her, leaving her panties inside of her and lowering her onto the ground. I hold on to her as she gains her footing. "God had nothing to do with that, little tornado."
She braces herself on my arm and wobbles. "I don't think I can walk," she admits.
I scoop her back into my arms and carry her the rest of the way up the stairs and into our apartment complex, going straight to our place and not stopping until I've laid her on the bed in my room.
"I think that was a bit overkill," she admits. "You didn't have to carry me all the way in here." London scoots back onto her elbows, her legs parting slightly, reminding me of the fabric tucked into her.
"Do you want me to get that?" I ask her, chewing at my lip and dying for another taste.
What the fuck is wrong with me? I can't stand her and yet I can't get enough.
London, her gaze lined with lust from only moments prior, spreads her legs. "Be my guest."
I shouldn't want this. I know I should stop.
I've already gone further than I should have, but that doesn't seem to stop me from climbing between her legs, hooking my arms up under them and dragging her onto her back.
I bury my face, my mouth sparing no regard for her aching core.
I don't care that she just came, she's going to come again if I have any say in it.
I pinch her clit between my lips and she bucks against me, her body wanting the release almost as badly as I do.
"Kiss me," she says through labored breath. "Archer…" London drags my head up to hers and I let her, giving her a taste of herself as my tongue enters her mouth, our teeth practically banging into each other’s as we try to deepen the kiss.
I press my body into her, my cock hard in my pants and dying to penetrate her tight hole. But I won't allow it. Not yet. Not like this. Sex is something we can't come back from, even though I can't be certain what's happening right now won't already complicate things.
London spreads her legs wider and moans as she grinds against me.
I crush myself into her, her wetness soaking through my pants, my cock so painfully hard I'm not convinced it isn't going to snap in fucking half in its confines.
I run my hand over her chest, tugging the strap of her dress down and exposing her breast. Breaking away from our heated kiss, I skim my tongue over her skin and pop her nipple into my mouth, sucking on it as it pebbles.
Desperate to feel her lips on mine again, I cup her breast, circling and massaging her nipple as our mouths meet, a frenzied hunger consuming us.
I continue to rock my hips against her, noting all the ways her body moves and bends under me, wanting to memorize the way it breaks, too.
"Fuck me, Archer," she cries against my mouth.
But I won't do it. I can't. Because once we do, there's no coming back.
I ignore her request and slide my hand down between our traitorous bodies and rub her clit, applying just the right amount of pressure for her to climax even harder than she did before, her moans suppressed by our kisses.
I swallow every single one of them down like it's the only thing giving me life and bask in her quivers until I'm certain she can no longer take any more.
I release my hand, give her one final kiss, and collapse on the bed beside her.
London lays there, her head back, her gaze on the ceiling, her breath labored and clipped. She licks her lips and swallows, and I watch her so intensely I locate a new constellation of freckles I hadn't noticed before on her cheek.
She turns her head toward me. "You still didn't get them out."
"Oh, my apologies." I move between her legs, both resting over my shoulders, and breathe her in for what should definitely be the last time. Pinching her panties between my lips, I tug, her pussy tight as I slowly pull them out of her and wish I could go back in time and do this all again.
London stares at me. "That was a first."
"What was?" I ask her and drop the panties into my hand.
"Being finger fucked with my own panties," she admits.
"How was it?" I ask her, curious for a performance report even though I'm sure the two powerful orgasms say enough.
"Terrible." She smirks. "You're a bad kisser, remember?"
I glare at her, wondering why she's going to ruin the moment but realize that's what got us in this situation from the start.
Not wanting to participate in the bickering match she's no doubt prepared to launch into, I slide off the bed, her cum-soaked panties still in my grasp. "I'm taking these, by the way."
"What? Why?" she asks, her eyebrows raised.
I'm at the door when I turn back and tell her, "I'm going to go jerk off in the shower."
It's up to her to determine whether I'm being serious.