Page 78 of All Twerk, No Play

The dirtier he talked, the higher I spiraled.

“Feasting on you splayed out on your kitchen island. Bending you over those granite countertops.”

“I love a man in the kitchen.”

“The best kitchen in the building, wasted by microwaving all your food.”

Laughter exploded from my mouth. I didn’t know laughing was possible when I was this close to coming, but somehow it made every sensation stronger.

He shifted, propping pillows behind my back and moving between my feet, kneeling between my splayed thighs. He could see everything, and I felt an urge to snap my knees shut and hide. He licked his lips and looked up to meet my eyes. “Want to hear my go-to fantasy?”

Every fantasy pushed me closer, so if he had a favorite … “Tell me.”

“The first time I saw you,” he said, his voice a heady mix of arousal and nostalgia. “At self-defense class.”

I flew cross-country to drag Alexander back to work, found him with his arms around another woman, and pulled the plug. “You think about that?”

“You showed up out of nowhere like a conquering victor. You were out the door in two minutes.”

And then I remembered the muscular man who stepped forward, with a smile brighter than a lighthouse in a storm.

“But in my fantasy, instead of his name,” he said, tilting the dildo into my front wall, “you say mine.”

I fought breathlessness to strengthen my voice. “I’m here for Eric de la Cruz.”

“Fuck yes,” he moaned, his once-again erect cock leaking. “You order everybody else out. You drop the cord and say one word, just one.”

He rubbed the bullet against my clit and whispered, “Kneel.”

“Oh shit, Cruz, yes!” I yelled as my orgasm crashed into me.

Knowing he craved my reactions, I didn’t turn away and bury my rough cry into my pillow. Instead, I dropped my head back and screamed. The force overtook me and I realized how deeply I needed this release.

With my eyes closed, I didn’t realize he dropped his head until his loose hairs tickled my thighs, then his tongue licked my clit beside the vibrator. My feet pressed into the bed as I ground into his mouth, in complete bliss.

When I finally opened my eyes, he powered off the vibrators and slid them aside with a satisfied smirk. “What, no bratty commentary from that smart mouth?”

I shook my head.

Muscles I didn’t even know I had were relaxing. My eyes drifted closed from the sheer force of coming that hard. My brain began shutting down. I wanted him to pull me close so I could feel his strength while I nodded off.

His hands grazed my legs, gently stroking my hips, palming my thighs, caressing my knees, and drawing soothing patterns all over my legs, lulling me deeper into relaxation. I could fall asleep like this, starfished with him kneeling between my legs, too relaxed to be embarrassed about my naked body on display.

“Well listen, I’ve been thinking …” he said, jarring me from my nearly comatose recovery.

“Eric,” I croaked in mock scorn, throat aching from screaming, keeping my eyes closed and hoping he’d get the hint, “do you ever shut up?”

“About that song …” his fingertips trailed along the inside of my thighs to the crease of my leg. When they drifted even lower onto my butt cheek, heading inwards, my eyes snapped open. “Do you think this is what she meant when she said, ‘Open the back door?’”

“Congratulations, you’ve officially ruined the song.” I tried to snap my legs shut, but he laughed and kissed the inside of my knee.

“Oh right, good girls don’t let boys touch their assholes, do they?”

Of course they didn’t. It was an unspoken rule.,I’d never even considered it and nobody had ever asked.

He raised a pinkie, trilling in an elitist voice, “Assholes are for bleaching and transporting diamonds to avoid the excise taxes.”

“I’ve never bleached it. And I always pay my excise taxes.”

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