Chapter 25 #2
“Yep,” I grunt as her hand moves lower, cupping my aching balls. They’re high and tight, ready for release. “Too bad you weren’t in the shower.”
“You’ve already seen everything.”
“Some views never get old.”
Rory smiles before reaching for the glass that still has an inch of scotch in it. She tosses back the contents, then sinks to her knees. Right here in the fucking kitchen, still in her skirt and blazer, like she’s too eager to move somewhere more comfortable or to take the time to change.
“I’m not sure I’m any good at this. So, tell me what you like, okay?”
Anger mingles with lust. I can make a good guess why she’s insecure about this, and I wish I could rewind time to punch Carson Albright all over again.
Rory takes the head of my cock into her mouth, sucking twice before swirling her tongue around the tip. She withdraws, running her tongue along the length of my shaft before she moves lower, circling each of my testicles.
I grab the granite edge of the island as the pleasure intensifies, settling low in my groin. In the quiet kitchen, I can hear the suction of her mouth, not just feel it.
There’s a wet pop before Rory says, “You’re supposed to be sharing feedback.”
Her tone is irritated, the way she always used to talk to me. And her talking to me that way while she’s on her knees, asking for a blow job performance review, might be the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced.
“Your mouth is the second-best thing I’ve ever felt, right after your pussy. That enough feedback for you?”
She blushes, then shakes her head. “Specifics, Flynn. Do you want me to use my hand or just my mouth?”
“Use both,” I grit out.
Her right hand closes around my erection as she blows on the wet tip. My cock jumps as more blood rushes south.
“Tighter,” I growl. “Like your cunt.”
More red stains her cheeks before she listens, her grip tightening where she’s stroking me. She swallows, taking as much as she can, her tongue rubbing the underside of my dick rhythmically.
I’m trying to hold off—I really am—but that’s rapidly becoming physically impossible. “Rory, I’m going to come.”
She doesn’t pull back.
I shove a hand into her hair, making a mess of her ponytail. “You fucking hear me? I’m going to come in your mouth if you don’t—”
Rory glances up, her eyes blue and brilliant and heated as she holds eye contact with me.
My cock jerks, groin muscles twitching as I fill her mouth with cum.
I’m expecting Rory to cough or spit. Instead, she sucks harder, suctioning my dick like it’s a straw. When I slip out of her mouth, there’s no trace of semen.
“You taste good,” she says nonchalantly, standing.
“Like scotch?”
She smirks, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “Salty.”
I crowd her against the counter again. “That was the best blow job I’ve ever gotten, Florence. It’s a fucking privilege to be in your mouth.”
Rory rolls her eyes, not taking me seriously. “Yeah, okay.”
“Say it.”
“Say what?”
“Say, It’s a fucking privilege to be in my mouth.”
She won’t meet my gaze. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I just … I wanted it to be good for you.”
“You’re terrible at tons of things. Cooking, getting B’s, taking compliments. But you’re insanely good at sucking cock. It was fucking incredible for me.”
“I did some research during my lunch break,” she admits.
I grin. “You watched porn at the office?”
“No! It was an article.”
“So academic.” I reach out, tilting her chin up. “Say it, Rory.”
She huffs, making sure I’m aware of how ridiculous she thinks this is. But she says it. “It’s a fucking privilege to be in my mouth.”
“A-plus,” I murmur. “Did having me in your mouth get you wet?”
“Yes,” she answers, all the annoyance fleeing her expression when I grasp the hem of her skirt and work it higher up her thighs.
“I bought some condoms on my way home.”
Rory bites her bottom lip as I reach under her bunched skirt and tug the thong she’s wearing down. “We could do it without anything once more?”
Fuck. Yes. My cock is starting to swell again at the prospect of feeling her bare. Before last night, I’d always had sex with some barrier.
“I already filled your mouth. You want more of my cum in your pussy?”
She blinks rapidly, looking a little dazed. “You’re really good at dirty talk.”
“Nah, I just don’t have much of a filter. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Talk to me like normal. It’s just you and me here. You up to try another position?”
“Ye—ow.” She glares after I swat her ass. “Was that really necessary?”
“If that’s your pain tolerance, never give Finch a bath. Go wait by the table.”
Another huff before she saunters in that direction. I walk over to the fridge to grab the whipped cream out.
Rory’s eyebrows rise as she spots the can. “You bought condoms and whipped cream? What a cliché.”
I smirk, shaking the can’s contents. “Talk nicer to me, or I won’t lick this off your tits. I noticed you liked my mouth on them. This is supposed to be a treat for both of us.”
She clears her throat, still uncomfortable with my bluntness. That’s fine. I’m happy to practice until she’s less shy.
I pull out one of the chairs and take a seat, setting the can on the table with one hand and giving my dick a couple strokes with the other. Rory’s throat works as she watches me.
“Come here,” I say huskily. Once she’s within reach, I rest a hand on each hip, guiding her so she’s positioned over me. “Rub your clit.”
The bunched fabric of her skirt prevents a perfect view, but it’s almost hotter, seeing her hand disappear. Watching her eyes heat and her face flush as she touches herself.
“How wet are you?”
“Really wet.” She shows me her fingers.
I grab her wrist, sucking the tips of two into my mouth, then releasing them. “Put me in.”
Rory grips me the same way she did earlier, adjusting my cock until I feel her hot cunt envelop the tip. She sinks down slowly, an inch, maybe less, disappearing at a time.
We both moan at the delicious friction of our bodies coming together. I keep my hold on her hips loose, letting her decide how fast and how much she takes. Her head tilts back, eyes closing and lips parting.
“How does it feel?”
She clenches around my cock when I speak, and that reaction makes me feel like a god.
“Good,” she pants. “Really, really good. You’re so deep. There’s so much … I can feel you everywhere. It’s more than I can … but I want more.”
“You can take the rest,” I tell her. “You did last night.”
Her eyes fly open, glancing down. “You’re not all the way in?”
“Nope.” I pop the P, leaning back in the chair. “Keep trying.”
“I’m telling you, there’s no more space.”
My right hand slides away from her hip, left and lower, thumbing her clit. “Try harder, overachiever.”
Rory shoots me an unimpressed look. But her pussy flutters, a reaction she can’t hide from me. I watch her forehead furrow with concentration, her breathing faster as she lets me deeper.
“That’s my girl. Almost there.”
I start to work on the buttons of her blouse, letting it slip off her shoulders and down to the floor. Her bra is pale pink lace. I flick the clasp open, tossing that away too.
I’m a little—a lot—obsessed with her boobs.
There’s some remnant of the teenage boy who noticed them appear left in me.
The adolescent who realized that Rory Kensington was starting to look as adult as she acted.
The college student who wondered what her curves looked like beneath the barrier of an elegant dress.
I don’t recall ever thinking about licking whipped cream off them. Even if I had, that fantasy would never have lived up to the reality of what’s happening now.
Rory starts moaning once my mouth begins sucking and licking. Her cunt tightens as I slide the final inches inside of her.
“You feel so good.” Her cheeks are flushed, eyes dazed.
I’ve never had sex in this position before. My default is the opposite of Rory’s preference—being behind. It allows me more control. I’ve never had an issue making a woman come that way. I’m certain I could make Rory come that way, based on how responsive she’s been so far.
It’s only occurring to me now that this positioning is a lot more personal.
Last night was darker, and we were in a bed.
This is … deliberate. I’m not uncomfortable, but I’m very aware of how close our faces are.
That I can literally see the fluttering of her pulse beneath her jaw and that I could count the few freckles sprinkled on her shoulders.
It’s a different definition of intimacy, one that hasn’t existed with any other girl I’ve dated before. Dated for real, rather.
I smile at Rory, reaching up to pull the elastic from her hair. I toss it on the table, watching blonde strands fall.
“This is the part where you ride my cock, Florence.”
She still doesn’t move. Just sits with me inside of her. “Now who’s impolite? You’ll get what I give you, Parks.”
Fuck, I could come without her moving.
Talking, as in full sentences adding up to an entire conversation, is also unfamiliar during sex. And I would have guessed that it would be a mood killer. That sounds were way sexier than any sort of dialogue.
I was wrong.