Page 32 of Hustle

Her hand pushes me back, and I realize for maybe the first time that giving up a little control – once in a while – in the bedroom can be hot as fuck.

She’s wearing nothing but a thong now. I’d eat it off of her if I could.

Her fingers trace up my inner thigh, grazing over my cock and balls, and I’m seeing stars.

“What do you want, Seamus?”

When I try to say that I’d like to eat what she’s wearing right off her body, what comes out is just the word, “eat.” My voice sounds so deep I almost don’t recognize it.

“Fantastic fucking idea.” She slides off her panties. I’m getting an eyeful and can’t take my eyes off the nipple piercings on her breasts, the winding tattoo that starts at one hip and snakes down her body. The glint of silver between her legs.

She’s so fucking beautiful. Something pulls tight in my chest, some sensation other than the almost blinding desire coming from my cock.

I want her so much, I can’t even make sense of it.

I’m pulling hard at the bindings on my hands, and I can feel the tie starting to give way. But she slides up my body, the smooth lines of hers sending fireworks as our skin connects. She pulls a move straight out of gymnastics and her beautiful pussy is right above my mouth.

Heaven.

There’s nowhere else I’d rather be. Kissing and licking my way along her seam, I run my tongue over the piercing above her clit and she pushes her hips down. She’s moaning words like fuck and yes, but all I want is for her to say my name.

She tastes like honey, and my nerd brain kicks in with some weird thought about honeybees and pollinating flowers, before my cock reminds me that we have something far more pressing at hand.

I slide my tongue inside her, and then back to her clit. She’s soaked and so fucking hot. My left hand rips free of the tie and I grab her hip to pull her down closer. Working my tongue over the clit, over the piercing, I pick up speed and intensity until I feel her shudder against my mouth. Her moans of pleasure send satisfaction straight to my core.

Now I’m pulling with real intensity on the right side. Damn it. “Evi,” there’s an urgency in my voice, as I’m reaching to pull her down to me.

“Uncuff me.” Another growl.

I sound like a Neanderthal.

She’s slid down my body and is striking a sex goddess pose on the edge of the bed.

She grins that wicked grin again, and says, “If you want me, Seamus, you’re going to have to come get me.”

She’s holding eye contact, sliding hands around her breasts, down along the line of her stomach, and into her pussy where she’s softly rubbing. A mewl of pleasure escapes her, and I’m filling with the strangest sense.

Possession. Jealousy. The only one I want her making those noises for is me.

Against my mouth.

With me inside her.

Saying my name until her voice is raw.

Until she has no voice left.

I might be a lawyer, but I’ve got plenty of muscle and apparently I’m pulling hard enough to start bending the iron headboard. She comes forward and puts a hand of my chest.

Must. Get. To. Evi.

Her eyes are a little wide, but her voice is gentle as she comes forward to help me.

“Seamus,” she whispers. “Just uncuff it.”

She does.

Fuck. Yes. I’m losing my mind here.

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