9. Jets
NINE
JETS
LYLAH
Does my boss have me in her arms, my back pressed against her front, with my pussy spread apart in her bathtub?
Yes, she does.
Am I complaining in the slightest?
Nope, not when she has my clit pressed up against this jet, causing my eyes to cross. “Move this pretty cunt to where it needs to be.”
“I need more,” I beg, without feeling an ounce of remorse. I’m empty, and I’ll beg until I don’t have any air left in me to speak another word. “Please, your fin?—”
Before I blink, she has one of my legs thrown up on the ledge of the tub.
She’s shifted to the side of me but is still somehow holding my back up with her leg.
Her hand, which was playing with my nipple, wraps around the bottom of my leg.
I feel her skim the curve of my ass, and then she’s there, where I need her the most.
Without warning, or any more begging required, she presses into my entrance, but not enough.
She’s teasing me, and from the look on her face, she knows exactly what she’s doing.
She separates her two fingers, rubbing just outside of my hole, spreading open my entrance that’s already so sensitive.
I can only imagine how good she’s going to feel once she’s inside of me.
A needy whimper escapes my chest, and meeting her gaze while being this close to her feels more erotic than her hands being on my cunt.
“That was a needy whimper, Bubbles,” she growls so close to my ear, causing a shiver to run down my back. With the heat of the water, the steamy air, and the sweat slicking the skin that’s above the water, you would think shivers wouldn’t be wracking my body, yet they are.
It’s her hands on me, enveloping my body and senses. But drowning in her isn’t enough. I need her in me more than I need another breath. “Please fuck me with your fingers. I need to feel you inside of me.” The words feel foreign, but she does what I need her to do.
She isn’t gentle with me either. When she finally breaches my hole, it’s what pushes my body over the edge.
I’m clenching around her fingers and have instantly turned into a moaning, whimpering mess.
She finds that spot inside me way too easily and with scary accuracy.
My body calls out to her like a lighthouse does to ships lost at sea.
She’s applying more and more pressure to my G-spot, and I fully relax for her.
Coming to terms with someone else bringing me pleasure for once.
I have to be in the perfect position to do any of this myself, and as her digits inside of me dance over my inner bundle of nerves, I feel her other hand move slightly.
Before I know it, my eyes are crossing as she pinches my clit in between her fingers as it’s still getting pelted by the jet.
I’m already coming… from her barely fucking into me.
Pathetic .
But she doesn’t stop there.
Why would she? She has me in her hands, molding me to her liking, and I’ll be whatever she needs me to be if it means she keeps doing what she’s doing.
She spreads me back open, pumping in and out of me as she coos, “You tear apart for me so beautifully, Lylah.”
And I swear to all things holy, I’m about to meet God herself. Between just coming, the jet hitting my clit at the perfect pressure, and her two fingers working me with precision at every angle, then the fucking praise… Yeah, I’m a goner.
Grabbing the back of her head, I pull her lips to mine, needing to taste her, touch her, have her on my skin in any way I can.
I don’t think I can blame the wine at this point.
It’s just Tatum. She’s working my body over like she’s playing her favorite instrument, and all I can think about is giving this right back to her.
The need to see her come undone for me is almost primal.
And that same thought is what has me screaming and coming on her hand once more. My cunt is way too sensitive to be up against the jet any longer, so I pull myself away as quickly as I can. “I don’t think you could get another orgasm out of me. She needs a break.”
She , as in, my greedy pussy that’s screaming, We can take another one, bitch .
“I bet I can pull one more out of those pretty lips.” She cups her hand over my center, and I’m quick to pull away.
My full attention is on her now. “It’s only fair if I get to see you lose yourself for me, too.” I almost chicken out, but I get the words out before I can second-guess myself. “Can you stand for me? I want to see you above me while I devour your cunt.”
She slowly stands, and the water running down her body glistens over her tattooed skin. My eyes don’t know where to look for the second time tonight, but they decide on what’s right in front of me.
Tatum’s plump, wet cunt.
My kryptonite.