Chapter 25 #2
Her peaked nipples tease me through the training top.
They’re at the ideal height for me to take them into my mouth, to swirl my tongue around each one.
If Billie thinks that I’m as gentlemanly inside the bedroom as I try to be in public, then she’s grossly mistaken.
My mouth would ruin her flesh in a single night, and my filthy words would repeat in her brain for a lifetime.
I peer up at her, wishing I’d worn my glasses before we got started. “Is that good for you?”
A soft moan is all I need to hear.
“Are you close?”
She doesn’t answer me, only rocking a little faster.
“I need you to tell me,” I grit out. “Because I’m around ten seconds from blowing straight in my shorts.”
Billie pauses, eyes falling to my dick. Her hand reaches out to cup me.
“Wait,” I command, redirecting her toward her pussy. “In my world, the woman always gets off before I do.”
I don’t share the surprised look on her face. Of course Tucker was as selfish in bed as he was out of it.
“Show me how you play with yourself. Let me watch this pussy swallow your fingers.”
Heat creeps up her neck. “In this position?” she asks, dropping her hand between her thighs.
I cock my head to one side, unsure if I’m dreaming or if this is really fucking happening. “Why don’t you sit back on the bed, hitch my top around your waist, and spread those perfect thighs for me?”
She grows a little coy, and I slide my thumb across her plump bottom lip.
“Are you good with that, Mama?”
When she nods lightly, apprehension fills her pretty eyes.
“Can I ask you something?” I want to ask a question that’s been on my mind for a while.
“Sure.”
My hands are back on her face. “How many men have you slept with?”
Green eyes track to the bed beneath us, and I hate that she’s anything but comfortable.
“Only Tucker.”
That’s exactly what I suspected, given her age and relatively sheltered life with Scott and Freya.
In contrast, I’ve been with more women than most of the guys on my team.
Although I was married for a long-ass time, to say I got around before I met Maria is a huge understatement.
I was the biggest fuckboy in my freshman year of college.
“Do you like touching yourself, Billie?”
Her eyes are back on mine, confidence steeling her shoulders. “Yes. Especially when I’m thinking about you.”
My balls contract to the point of pain.
This woman is going to annihilate me.
I tip my chin at the headboard. “Go ahead and show me.”
She doesn’t hesitate, scooting until her back is planted firmly against my headboard, top already bunched around her middle.
All she needs to do is let her knees fall apart, and I’ll be privy to the best show of my life.
“Tell me what you want me to do next, Emmett.”
Billie proves that inexperience doesn’t necessarily translate to incompetence as she takes two fingers and slides them into her mouth.
I’m going to expire.
My voice is gravelly when I attempt to find words. “I want you to part your legs and take them as wide as they’ll go. The only view I want this morning is your pretty pink cunt as it weeps for me.”
Edging her knees apart, she confirms what I already knew—perfection. Aside from a single strip of short hair, she likes to keep herself bare.
“When you massage your clit like that, what do you think about me doing to you?” I ask, watching the way she works the swollen nub beneath her fingers.
She spreads herself wider. “Eating me out.”
Reaching beneath the waistband of my shorts, I glide my palm over my cock, pre-cum leaking down the shaft. With my other hand, I push them to my knees, letting Billie see me without a steamed-up shower door between us.
Although she might try to hide it, I don’t miss the flare of her eyes or the way her pupils dilate.
I stroke myself again, tipping my head toward the ceiling. “Do you think my cock would fit inside you?” It’s a rhetorical question, but I want to hear her agree that our bodies were made for each other.
“Why don’t you come over here?” She pats the mattress with one hand, pushing two fingers inside her tight heat. “I can wrap a palm around it and check.”
A maniacal groan rises up my throat.
“Don’t fucking tempt me, Billie.”
Pulling out her fingers, she pushes them back inside.
“Curl them toward your front wall, like you’re beckoning me to fuck you,” I command, fist sliding down my shaft. One more pass, and I’ll empty all over the bedding.
Like a good fucking girl, Billie does as I asked, mouth popping open in response.
Satisfaction shoots through me. “That’s how I’d finger you for the first time. And once I got you off, I’d clean your throbbing pussy with my tongue.”
On another curl of her fingers, Billie falls apart right in front of me. Thighs pinching, chest heaving, my name a tortured whisper on her tongue. An echo of the way her name fell from my lips in the shower.
At the final second, I smother the end of my dick with my palm, catching jets of my hot release on a deep growl. My other hand pumps faster, draining my balls of the best orgasm I’ve ever had.
Billie watches on, gaping jaw mimicking my own expression. That was the greatest sexual experience of my life, all without us setting a single finger on each other.
I should be pleased, relieved even, to have chased my release, pent-up need and desire unraveling into my hand.
But relief couldn’t be further from what I feel as I watch Billie circle her dripping pussy, aftershocks of pleasure rippling through her body.
If this is what it’s like to watch my best friend’s daughter get herself off to thoughts of us, then how the fuck am I supposed to keep my hands off her now?