That sexy little sound almost makes me cum. I bite my lip and fight to hold back the cum burning at the base of my cock. Once I'm sure I won't shoot my load, I move that hand lower, down her stomach, which will someday be swollen with my child. Over her mound. I slide it between her thighs and she quivers. “Mine.” Once again my cock rears as if it's trying to drill through my pants.
This woman is going to be the end of me. But what a fucking way to go!
I have to taste her pussy. Now.
I slide an arm under her knees and sweep her into my arms. Inside, I take her straight to the bedroom and set her on the bed. She looks up at me with wide eyes full of wanting. “I'll make it better, baby,” I promise as I ditch my tie, torn shirt, shoes, and socks. “But I won't take you. Not until you're mine.”
She nods and lays back, allowing me the priceless pleasure of slowly removing her clothes.
Inch by inch her lush body is unwrapped.
Inch by inch, I kiss, nip and taste her.
Until she is writhing beneath me, nude, her long legs spread wide and pleas for relief tumbling from her mouth.
“No baby. I can't take you,” I tell her. “Not yet.”
Her pink pussy is dripping with her honey. Her folds swollen. I part them and dip my tongue into her channel, slurping up every drop of her juices. She tastes so good I can't get enough. I fuck her with my tongue then work my way to her clit. She quivers and trembles and begs for release as I use the tip of my tongue to tease her hard little pearl until she explodes. And once she's cooled off a bit, I push her thighs wider apart and do it all over again, this time fucking her tight little asshole with my finger. When she cums I devour her, lapping up her juices like a starving man. The third time she cums, she cries out my name, bucking against my face. The sight of her losing it shoves me over the edge. Cum blazes down my shaft and spurts into my underwear. I roar in protest and grind my cock against the edge of the mattress until there's nothing left inside me.
At last I'm sated. Though my heart is still drumming in my chest. Knowing this glorious peace will not last long, I crawl onto the bed and pull her quivering body to me. She rests her head on my chest, one hand splayed on my stomach.
She sighs. “Maybe this being-held-hostage thing isn't so bad after all.”
Chapter 6
Jordan
I hate men. They're all a bunch of sex-crazed users.
They think with their dicks. Not their heads...
Okay, yeah. I'm lying. I don't hate all men.
Just the bad ones. Like...Nick (yes, he has a name, and I can even say it now without feeling like I'm going to throw up). And most of the men I knew growing up. They were all bad.
As far as them being sex-crazed, who am I to judge? I think I'm becoming sex-crazed myself.
For that, I blame Grayson Parker.
Holy shit, what that man does with his tongue should be illegal. I swear I came so hard I almost passed out. Three times! I've never had three orgasms in a row. Hell, I've never had three orgasms in a week.
When he's near I want him to touch me.
And when he touches me, I want sex.
Real sex.
A big-thick-cock-inside-me sex.
Slam-me-against-the-wall-and-make-me-scream sex.
I've never felt this way. I've never begged a guy to fuck me before. It wasn't like this with Nick.
Now that I can see how thrilling and explosive sex can be, I know marrying Nick would have been a mistake. When he cheated on me, he did me a huge favor. Correction: he did both of us a huge favor. We avoided what would have been a disastrous marriage.
But just because Grayson and I share some crazy chemistry does that mean we're made for each other?
He seems to think so.
Me, I'm not so sure. Not yet.
Is he good looking enough?
Ohmygod, yes! He's the sexiest man I have ever met.
He's smart too.
And successful. I wouldn't mind never needing to worry about being homeless again. Or poor. Or lonely. Or the hundredth wife of a guy old enough to be my
Learning to Kill: Stories