Chapter 19 #3
When I pulled up, she was already waiting.
I did, in fact, win the next game.
Her punishment was figuring out what words I was spelling on that fat pussy while I had her spread out on my couch, the board long forgotten on the coffee table behind us.
She only made out one.
“Sweet,” she gasped, thighs shaking around my shoulders while I dragged my tongue through her again.
“That’s one.”
She cursed and tried to push at my head, but there wasn’t much conviction in it. Not with her body already gone soft and open for me, one hand twisted in the cushion beside her and the other sliding pulling at my head like she couldn’t decide whether she wanted me off her or deeper in it.
I chose for her.
By the time I got up from between her legs, she was breathing through her mouth and looking at me like she already knew she wasn’t getting out of the rest of the night with any dignity left.
“Come here,” I said.
This time she went to her knees without playing with me.
She settled between my thighs with her eyes still on mine, mouth swollen from kissing and cussing and trying to survive me. I touched her jaw once, thumb brushing the corner of her mouth, and she parted her lips before I had to ask.
Damn.
Her mouth was already wet when she took me in. Slow at first. Careful enough to make me feel every inch of her tongue. Then deeper. Then deeper than that, until I had to brace one hand on the back of the couch and breathe through my own reaction like I still had some control left to work with.
I didn’t.
Not for long.
She looked up at me while she sucked my dick like she meant it.
Moaning around me. Choking a little and coming right back down.
Spit running from the corners of her mouth, down her chin, down those pretty tits.
My hand found her head on instinct. Not gentle.
Not mean either. Just enough to hold, guide, and feed her what she was already asking for with that slick mouth.
“Fuck,” I muttered, looking down at her. “Just like that.”
She took me deeper.
My toes curled so hard inside my socks I nearly laughed at myself.
Instead, I grabbed her head properly and gave her more of me, the way I’d been wanting to since the first time she looked at me too long with that soft mouth and all that attitude.
Her perfectly laid curls gave under my hand.
Her gagging turned wetter. Dirtier. She moaned around my dick like she loved every second of me using her throat, and that was what sent me.
Her name tore out of me ugly and loud.
“Talia—fuck—”
I came down her throat with a roar, my hips jerking once, then again, while she stayed right there and took it, coughing around the last of it before pulling off slow and wrecked and shining with me.
Shit.
She looked up at me from her knees, mouth swollen, eyes dark, chest damp where her spit had run, and the sight of her like that did something dangerous to me. I was already gone enough to love it, already too deep to pretend this was only about heat.
For a second after, neither of us said anything. The board sat forgotten on the coffee table, the room thick with wine, skin, and sex, while she stayed there with her hair mussed, her lips fuller than before, and my self-control hanging on by a thread.
I reached down and thumbed the corner of her mouth, gathering the last slick trace of myself there before I helped her up.
She came easy, still catching her breath, and I kissed her softly that time.
Soft, but not innocent.
My taste was still on her mouth. Hers was still on mine.
The kiss carried all of it between us, salt and heat and the filthy little truth of what we had just done.
She made a quiet sound against my lips and kissed me back like she didn’t mind any of it.
Like tasting herself on me and me on her only pulled her closer.
That got me somewhere deep.
Because it wasn’t just nasty. It was trust.
It was her letting me have that part of her and still standing in my arms afterward, soft and warm and unashamed.
I kissed her again, slower this time, soft enough to let her feel what sat underneath all the filth. Soft enough to remind both of us that I wasn’t just taking from her because she let me.
“You good?” I asked against her mouth.
She nodded, still breathing hard. “Mmhmm.”
I pulled her into me after that and let her stand there in my arms while both of us came back to ourselves.
She leaned her forehead to my chest and laughed once, low and wrecked. “You started all that over Scrabble.”
I kissed the top of her head. “You were talking reckless.”
“I was winning.”
“No, you were losing with confidence.”
That got another laugh out of her, and damn, even that did something to me because it was never just the sex with her. It was this too, her warmth in my arms, her laugh in my living room, the easy little silence after we had done something filthy enough to make lesser people awkward.
I looked down at her and knew I was already in deeper than I had planned for.
The bad part was, I liked it there.