Willa #3
“I know I said that I was saving that sweet pussy of yours for dessert…” He pulls back, the impish grin returning, even bigger than before. He licks his lips, hands traveling down my body, slowly, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. “But nothing says I can’t have dessert first.”
Please…
A single waggle of his eyebrows and he sinks down, pushing my knees as far open as they will go. I feel exposed and on display, but sexy and desired at the same time. Something only he can accomplish. No one else I’ve been with ever made me feel like this. So turned on, so wanted.
It’s a feeling that is unlike anything else. Being the center of his attention, the object of his affection—if you want to call this affection—is incomparable. Standing on the stage being crowned Miss Georgia didn’t feel this good.
If only it wasn’t laced with so much hurt. So much betrayal.
Gentle kisses brand the inside of my thighs, one side, then the other, alternating the slow, sweet torture.
Drawing out the anticipation of feeling him exactly where I want him.
Not even bothering to hide that’s what he’s doing, he blows against the crotch of my thong, and the warm air mingles with the wetness of the fabric, driving me crazy.
Every nerve in my body is hovering right underneath the surface of my skin, waiting for that first touch. Waiting to explode. To come alive.
“Such a pretty pussy…”
I can hear the mirth in his voice as he runs a finger along my core, loving the tease. At least one of us is. If he doesn't act soon, I might kill him. And I am one thousand percent certain a jury of my peers would rule it as justifiable homicide.
“Please…”
“I do like when you say please, Princess.”
Something snaps inside as he says his nickname for me, and I reach for him, but he catches my wrist in his hand, like an outfielder catching a pop fly. Quick, simple, and done.
“Nuh-uh…naughty girl…”
He lets go for a moment—long enough to rid me of my panties—returning his hands to my wrists, pinning them against the counter. I squirm under his hold, mostly for show, but also to hurry him up. It doesn’t work, his mouth still branding my sensitive inner thighs with hot, wet, open-mouthed kisses.
“Please…”
“Since you ask so nicely.”
His tongue hits my clit without warning. I scream, lurching forward, hands breaking free and gripping his head. My reaction only fuels him, his tongue flicking back and forth at hummingbird-like speed. If I thought I was lost in pleasure before, I was wrong.
This, this is everything.
Every synapse is firing at breakneck speed as he continues—licking, sucking, flicking—everything all at once. I’m a mess of feelings, physical and otherwise, my mind unable to do anything but focus on him between my legs.
Switching things up, his rapid-fire flicks turn long and slow, leveling up this moment. Sending me flying after ecstasy. Or maybe it’s flying toward me. I have no idea. I also don’t care. As long as the two of us find each other sooner rather than later.
Just when I think I’m almost there, he slides two fingers in me, curling them to hit me right there. In the spot that only he knows about. A spot that has his name written on it in permanent script.
“Fuuuuck!”
He hums against my pussy, which is all I need.
I throw my head back, screaming, as my orgasm slams into me.
The whole word goes black, stars filling my vision, and wave after wave of the most intense pleasure shoots through me.
I hold on to his hair tighter, his mouth working overtime to stay with me, riding this out.
Holy hell…
Except, it’s not enough. I need more.
I need him inside me.
As if reading my thoughts, he pulls away, licking his lips clean and tugging me in for a kiss. I can taste myself on him, the sweet tang fueling my need. The lust-fueled haze that surrounds me—us—has me dizzy and so singularly focused that nothing else matters.
Hickory Hills could burn to the ground in this moment and I would neither know nor care. My only focus is him.
“I need you inside me, now.”
“Need, huh?”
He steps away, disrobing at record speed. It’s my turn for the visual appraisal, my eyes dancing up and down his long, lean body. Fuck me, he is a thing of beauty.
Tanned skin, a solid eight pack, and thighs that looks like they’ve been carved out of marble go with those biceps I was admiring earlier, making him the perfect specimen. The kind of dirty dream you keep to yourself. All that manual labor has served him well.
“Need. Now.”
A nod. That's the only response I get.
He brandishes a condom from God knows where, sheathing himself. I bite my lip, trying to hold in my begging. I’m hot, wet, and so fucking desperate for his cock it’s not funny.
An arm reaches around me, yanking me off the counter and into his arms. Hands digging into my ass, he positions himself at my entrance. He teases me for a second, the tip hovering right there, but not going any farther.
“Hang on, Princess.”
I don’t have time to react; he thrusts inside me so fast it steals my breath. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I prepare myself for more. He pulls out slowly, but then forward again at the same pace as before.
Ohhhh, fuck…
“You are so fucking tight…you feel so fucking good…”
His words are like a drug. A dirty, dirty drug filling my veins, helping me chase the high we’re both after even more.
“Fuck me…”
He picks up the pace, finding his rhythm in no time. There's no more room for talking, our bodies saying everything there is to say. A messy mix of grunts, moans, and whatever else escapes us. Nothing about this is sweet or loving. It's pure lust-fueled fucking.
There is no room for feelings here. No matter what may reside under the surface. No matter what gets left unsaid. That is not what this is. Even if I secretly wish it was.
That's not what I need to be focusing on now either. No, I need to be focused on my orgasm. The one I so desperately want. One wasn’t enough—it never is. I can feel another one growing, the telltale tickle in my belly barely there.
As if reading my mind, he walks us over to the couch, lowering me to my feet, spinning me around and bending me over. Another sharp thrust and he’s inside me again, filling me even deeper in this position. I moan, loving how full I feel as he starts moving.
Reaching around me, his finger finds my clit, his hips picking up the pace. What was a tickle is now a full-on rush, the tingle starting in my toes and quickly spreading through me. I swear my pulse skips every other beat, my mind spinning, every synapse firing at will.
“Come for me, beautiful. Come for me.”
Boom!
My knees wobble, my scream loud enough to be heard from outer space as a second orgasm hits. I’m louder than I should be, but I don’t care. There’s too much going on in my body. I feel too fucking good to be able to focus on being quiet. Or anything other than feeling this fucking good.
I shake and shiver, holding on to the couch for my life as he continues to pound into me, each new movement punctuating my climax, upping the intensity. He continues like this for another minute, before letting go, roaring my name as he finishes.
Two mind-numbing, earth-shattering orgasms. Please and thank you.
It’s a long, almost silent moment, the still air filled with nothing but our ragged breathing. What is there to say after something like that?
Again, this isn’t about love. No matter the stupid holiday. There are no sweet nothings for us to whisper. And despite our casualness, neither of us are crass enough to offer the other a high five and say, “nice fuck!”
I try to push up, the heavy weight of his body a welcome distraction, but not enough to deter me. I can’t stay bent over my couch naked and underneath him for forever. He takes the hint, disengaging our bodies, smacking my ass in the process.
Then, he does something that surprises me.
He scoops me up, like a groom would a bride, rounds the couch and flops down, still holding me in his lap. The contact feels too good to let go, so I drink it in, allowing the moment to go where it goes.
“We never did order that pizza,” he says awhile later.
“There’s still time. Call and order it.”
“What happened to puppy dog tongues?”
I giggle at his butchered reference to my analogy, unable to hold it in. “It’ll be fine. If anyone asks, you were fixing something for me and I paid you in pizza.”
Pressing his lips to my forehead, he leaves a chaste kiss, my heart leaping.
“Sounds like a plan. And don’t worry, your secret is safe with me, Princess.”
That’s because you are my secret, Nash Keller.
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