12. Oral and Orgasms
oral and orgasms
Mirren
“You done?” He looks pointedly at my bowl.
“Not even close.”
“What if you finish after I eat you?”
My eyebrows jump, but I fight to make my face neutral just as my fork clatters to the bowl. I study him.
“I dare you, Freckles. I dare you to let me lick that pretty pussy on this island so every time you come into this kitchen you want to clench your thighs from the memory.”
“I—”
“And I dare you not to come until I say you can.”
Oh, I know he didn’t. My chin lifts, and somehow, I’m sure the fight warring inside me plays across my face.
Rolling his lips between his teeth, he stands and removes his glasses, setting them on the island, and hovers over me. It’s no threat, but it’s dominant. He looks down on me where I sit as he slowly dips his head. His eyes bounce between mine and my lips, all the while coming closer and closer.
The heat kindling in me wants to combust, igniting the whole place, but I hold my seat, watching and waiting, letting it gather momentum to singe me from the inside out. His lips graze mine but divert to my ear where he bites and nibbles.
Whispered words send chills down my spine. “Mirren Jones, I dare you to let me fuck you with my tongue, lick your sweet, sweet pussy, and make you come on my face.”
That’s it. Everything is it, frankly.
His taunting words, the scent of him, his nearness, the heat… the challenge.
“Yes,” I acquiesce on a quiet moan. “But I’ll come when and how I want.”
He pulls back, his eyes dancing with mirth. “We’ll see.”
I stand, but Strider doesn’t back up, doesn’t give an inch.
My breasts rub his chest as I look up into his handsome face.
“As if you get to choose.” And with all the brain cells I can muster, I slip to the side and holding the man’s molten gaze, I lift the tee over my head, lifting my chin in a silent taunt.
In no time, Strider is on me, wrapping me in his arms, mouth taking mine, our tongues dueling for dominance.
His fingers skim my waist, thumb the undersides of my breasts, and dance along the top of my jeans.
There’s no hesitation as he rips open the button, speaking against my lips.
“Baby, you’re playing with fire.” Hands round my waist as he continues, “But I like the burn. Up.”
I don’t need any more encouragement and hop as he lifts, locking my ankles above his ass and grinding against the heat in his jeans.
Rounding the corner, he slides me down his chest until my ass is perched on the island. The cold marble oozes through my jeans. A quick tug on my hair and he exposes my neck, his mouth finding the spot where my pulse pounds a tattoo in my veins.
“Fuck,” he mutters quietly, as if to himself, and grinds his cock to my core. He sucks hard on my pulse point, flicking his tongue in time with each beat.
With no warning, he lays me back against the cold marble, and I hiss as my back bows to avoid the chill. He lifts his face from where he’s trailing kisses between my breasts, a smirk playing on his lips.
“You arching up under my tongue was exactly what I wanted, but I expected to make it to your clit before that happened. I took you for a woman with a little restraint.”
The fucker winks before returning to my chest. My bra cups are yanked down, lifting my breasts to the ceiling. Before I can care, his mouth is on one and then the other, the cool air juxtaposed against his warm mouth. I moan and writhe and reach for my clit, only to have my hand slapped away.
“Nope. Your orgasms are mine tonight. In fact…” He lifts off my body and leaves.
He fucking leaves.
“Nope,” I shout. “Get back here. You promised oral and orgasms, and I’m demanding you make good on it.”
His chuckle reaches me before I see him… well, him and my vibrator. He doesn’t return, so I crane my neck to follow his movement. I shouldn’t have. I should’ve left well enough alone.
A glass shoveling ice from the ice maker tells me I should’ve kept to my original plan and hid out at Davie’s until this reservation had run its course.
I knew. I knew. And I came back anyway. And here I lie…
on my kitchen island with my tits straining for the ceiling and my doom walking toward me, a smile plastered firmly on his face.
Strider
The vibrator in the glass of ice is solely there for the threat of it. Mirren’s eyes blow wide, her freckles taunting me from her pert nose. Her body splayed before me like a feast when I’m looking at my last meal.
“Baby, you are a work of art.” I don’t mean to sound so serious. “I must be the luckiest bastard on the planet.”
“You won’t be if you don’t get busy,” she mutters.
Everything about her is my kryptonite. She’s sexy as fuck and cute as a button. She’s got a gorgeous body and a smart mouth. She’s everything I could ever want, wrapped up in a package that brings me to my knees.
“You may control a lot of shit in your life, but I control this.” I watch as my index finger trails down her body from the hollow of her throat, past her tits, over her belly button, until I cup her through her jeans. “At least for tonight.” I lift my gaze to hers and drop my voice, “Let go.”
Her eyes bounce over my face as if she’s deciphering a code I don’t know is written there, but she nods as if it’s a vow. “For tonight.”
It’s not a challenge.
It’s not acceptance.
It’s submission.
And I have no idea how I’ll ever live without it.
“Close your eyes.”
She hesitates. Emotions war across her face before she gauges me and slowly does as I ask.
“Can you feel me touching you?” I squeeze where I cup her through her jeans.
“Yes.”
Removing my hand, I place both on the waistband of her pants. “What about now?”
She doesn’t answer, but she lifts her hips in response. I tug them and the apple green thong over her hips and off her legs. She hisses as her ass hits the cold stone.
But it’s only for a second, because I can barely restrain myself.
I fold over her body, between her spread legs and take a nipple in my mouth, sucking it into a hard peak while playing with the other.
I rub my painfully hard cock against her center.
For all intents and purposes, I’m dry humping her.
If it weren’t so fucking off-the-charts hot, I’d hate myself for it.
She reaches for me, placing her hands on my head to push me toward the juncture of her thighs.
I laugh and lift my head to find her looking at me. “You’re such a rule breaker. Let’s try again. Close your eyes.”
They narrow to slits, and she sticks her tongue out at me, but she relents and slowly drops her eyelids shut.
I take her hands and curl them around the edge of the island. Her knuckles whiten.
“I won’t let you fall, baby. I promise. But keep your hands there, okay?”
She scrunches her face.
“I need you to talk to me.” I lean backward enough to remove my warmth from her pussy and flick her clit.
“Oh, fuck.”
“Not yet, but I like where your thoughts are going.”
She opens her eyes to give me a look.
“Do I need to blindfold you?”
She squeezes her eyes shut so fast, it’s comical.
Leaning over her, I kiss her belly, her hipbones, and finally the inside of her left thigh as I place her heel on the stone next to her hand, repeating the gesture on her right.
Fuck me. In all my life, I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want this woman. I want to live between her thighs. My fingers, my mouth, my cock. I want to spend hours worshiping her only to begin my pilgrimage again and again. Morning by morning. Night by night.
I think I growl. Perhaps it’s a groan. Regardless, it’s the only thing I know before I fall on her opening, lapping, licking, drinking so deeply, but never slaking my thirst.
Using my thumbs, I spread her wide and draw quick flat strokes from her pussy to her clit. It’s messy and unorchestrated. I’m so distracted by her undulating against my face and the sounds she makes, I go feral. It’s not enough. I can’t get close enough.
I pause long enough to lick my pinkies and in one fell swoop, I spear her pussy with my thumbs, opening and massaging, while my pinkies slip into her ass.
My lips find her clit and suck until she screams and bucks, writhing on my face.
To get away or to get closer, I can’t tell.
I want to care. But I need more. It’s not want.
It’s not desire. It’s need, and I draw on her clit again, sucking and flicking as she screams.
“Strider. Strider. Strider!” The last one stretches into a moan as she melts into me.
“Again, Mirren.”
“That was two.”
“Yeah, well…” There’s no completing that sentence. I just know that’s not enough for me.
I don’t know that it will ever be enough for me.