Chapter 6 Hope #2
His mouth closed over the cotton of my underwear, teasing, and circling, pressing and rubbing, edging me until I wanted to scream from need.
“Love those sounds you’re making, baby girl. Keep it up.”
I begged. I panted. I moaned. I wanted it to end. I wanted him to keep touching me forever.
Justice Wild had his mouth on me. All of my hopes and dreams and secret smutty desires paled in comparison to this moment.
“You ready for more?” he asked, hooking a finger into my underwear.
“Yes. Please, make me come.”
“Fuck.” He ripped my underwear from my body and tossed my skirts up to my waist. Hitching his shoulders under my knees, he moved me this way and that until I was spread across the counter like a dessert waiting to be devoured.
“Gonna enjoy this.” His head dipped and with one swipe of his tongue I lost all sense of time and place.
“Justice!”
He didn’t answer as his tongue slowly rolled over my most intimate places, caressing me with care and adoration.
“Why are you going so slow?” I asked, reaching down to fist his hair.
“You don’t rush what deserves to be savored.”
His fingers tangled in my damp curls, complementing his gentle kisses with blunt, rough caresses. The juxtaposition between the two had me arching, aching, panting for more.
I could feel his grin against me. “Enjoying that, hmm?”
“Maybe,” I lied. “Keep going and I might be able to tell you.”
His dark chuckle sent my heart into a flutter.
He resumed his leisurely exploration, seemingly in no rush to end my erotic torture.
“Hurry,” I directed, arching my hips in a bold invitation. His teeth gently grazed my clit.
“Why does this feel so good?”
“Because I’m touching you. Because your taste is on my tongue.” He dipped his head to continue working me over, driving my need higher.
“Justice?”
“Mm?”
“Can I taste you?”
Justice lifted his head. “And what exactly do you mean by that?”
I met his gaze boldly. “I want to taste your cock.”
With a groan, he buried his head between my thighs, returning to his previous attentions.
“Is that a no?” I asked, my eyes drifting closed.
“Be quiet and let me enjoy,” he growled.
Well, okay.
He picked up the pace, using fingers and tongue to devastating effect. He owned me, marking me with his possessive touches.
My focus narrowed, my attention riveted to each movement.
Distantly, I registered a small beeping sound.
“What’s—”
“Ignore it,” Justice barked. “Focus on me.”
I did as ordered, panting and gasping, desire slicking my thighs.
“More,” I begged, squirming under his tongue. “More.”
He layered his movements, building the delicious tension until he slipped first one then another finger into me, his thumb trading caresses of my clit with his tongue.
“Fuck,” I gasped then squealed when he spanked my ass.
“Language,” he admonished, chuckling. “You’re in a church.”
He drew back, standing to lean over me, his fingers unforgiving as he pushed me harder and higher.
“Gonna watch you come,” he muttered, playing my body to perfection.
I fractured, shattering against his hand. He caught my scream with his mouth, kissing me through my climax and smothering the needy noises I couldn’t restrain.
“Fuck,” he muttered, leaning down to nip my neck. “You’re fucking gorgeous.” He sucked away the sharp sting. “One more. I need to hear you again.”
He slid down my body and back to crouch between my legs. He pressed his mouth to me, beginning to build me back up, playing my body like the professional musician he was.
His tongue circled once, twice, while his finger pressed against my G-spot, stroking me inside and out.
Already oversensitized, I couldn’t halt the crash. I bowed off the counter as painful-sweet waves washed over me. Pleasure sizzled across my skin as I slowly registered that I was lying on a counter in a church hall, with my grandmother and her knitting friends a mere half a building away.
“Balls,” I whispered, blinking up at Justice. “Are we going to hell?”
He chuckled. “Not today.”
A gloriously lethargic feeling invaded my limbs, at the same time I registered an incessant beeping noise.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“The oven. Ignore it.” Justice gently drew down the skirt of my dress. “You okay, gorgeous?” he asked.
“Mm,” I murmured, luxuriating in the afterglow of my climax. “Just enjoying the moment.”
I heard him moving around the kitchen, washing his hands and turning off the timer before he removed the quiche. A faint bitter smell tickled my nostrils.
“Damn.” I pushed up onto my elbows. “Did we burn it?”
Justice lifted the hot glass dish above his head, squinting at the bottom. “Just a smidge. We’ll blame it on the oven.”
I could quite clearly see that his “smidge” did not adequately cover the reality of our transgression. The pastry had turned a crisp, charcoal black.
My gaze dropped to his crotch, and I was immensely gratified to see that despite his nonchalance, his body showed his arousal.
We returned to the gathering, and despite some gentle ribbing about taking our sweet time, no one commented on the quiche.
I suspected it had less to do with politeness and more to do with Justice’s arm over my shoulder and his lips nuzzling against my temple. It appeared the gossip groupies would have something new to chew over tonight.
As the gathering wrapped up, Gran passed Justice my sacrificial scarf.
“This is what you’re getting yourself into with my granddaughter,” she told him solemnly.
Quick as a whip, Justice pulled his phone out of his back pocket and handed it to Gran. She examined the offering and began to chuckle.
“And this is what she’s getting into with me.”
Gran handed me the phone which showed him… well, I didn’t even know how to describe what I was seeing.
“What is this?” I asked, mystified.
“When we were just starting to take off, the band got offered a gig in Japan. As part of the promotion, we were invited on a local game show. This is a still from that footage.”
The whole band wore costumes of some kind—very elaborate, very strange costumes that seemed to consist of leopard print fur in various color patterns.
“There’s footage, you say?” I asked, hiding my smile. “And where might I find—?”
He slapped a hand over my mouth, pulling me into him.
“Ssshhh, this is all a fever dream.”
I licked his palm, laughing.
“Do that again,” he said, leaning in to whisper in my ear. “But do it near my c—”
“Will you carry this?” Gran asked, thrusting her basket of yarn at Justice.
He let me go and accepted the basket, then offered Gran his arm. “May I escort you out?”
Gran tittered like a teenager, and I saw where I got my thin cheeks from as she blushed. “You may.”
She took his arm, and they walked outside, discussing goodness only knew what.
After loading everything in the car, Justice helped me into the driver’s seat, hovering at my open door.
“You need to shut it or get in,” I said with a laugh.
“Will you help me with something?” he blurted, fidgeting from foot to foot.
I sobered. “If I can.”
“I want to see… that is… I haven’t been back to see….” He cleared his throat, but I didn’t need him to explain—I already knew.
“I’ll come with you to see your parents.” I squeezed his hand, my heart hurting for him. “Text me and I’ll be there.”
He bent to kiss my forehead. “Thank you.”
“Any time.”
He shut the door and I pulled the car away from the curb, wishing I could linger in the church parking lot for just a few minutes more.
Gran made a sound in her throat, interrupting my musing. I glanced over and laughed at her smug expression.
“Don’t look at me that way,” I warned. “This has nothing to do with you and your matchmaking nonsense.”
“Maybe not, but I like to take it as a sign of success that we forced everyone to eat burnt quiche.”
Groaning, I drove us home.