Page 47 of Dirty Player

“Oh God,” she whimpered.

I pressed against her thigh with one hand to hold her steady. She rubbed more, teased more, slid her fingers inside and around her lips until her fingers shone from her own wetness.

“Oliver.” Her hips pressed and rolled. “So close.”

I teased her with the head of my cock, getting it wet from her own ministrations.

And then she shattered beneath me. Every part of her tightened and bucked with abandon. She fell back, and I leaned forward until I could taste her pussy. Then I ate her.

Her hand went to my hair as I strung out her orgasm, pulled it from deep inside her as my teeth and tongue took over.

She slid against my mouth, wet and slick, and it only made me keep going while she chanted for me to stop.

“No more. Please. Too much. Oh God.”

Everything repeated, dulled by the roar in my own ears at the way this woman went fucking wild.

“Oh God, going to come. Again. Oliver.” Her fingernails dug into my scalp and I flinched from the pain, used it to press deeper. My hands went to her thighs as I stretched her open as wide as she could get.

I buried my tongue in her, lapped her juice, and licked everything I could devour. My tongue fucked her, mirroring the movements my cock would be doing to her soon.

“Oliver!”

She screamed my name like I’d wanted her to. I didn’t stop. I fucking couldn’t. I was going crazy with the taste of her and the way she seemed to not stop coming all over me. I stood up some, grabbing her ass in my hands, and continued licking until her shakes began to subside.

She threw an arm over her eyes and shivered. “Holy shit,” she murmured over and over again as I gently set her legs down.

I chuckled. Fuck. She was wilder and crazier than I’d thought she’d be, and every time she was more fantastic than the last. My hand ran up her stomach, through the center of her chest until it settled at the side of her throat. Her pulse and heartbeat pounded against her heated skin.

“You okay?”

She shook her head back and forth. “Dying.”

“Come on.” I pulled her so she was sitting and then I picked her up, laughing against her when she could barely wrap her legs around my waist. “You’ll have to recover quick,” I said as I carried her down the short hall to the less-than-impressive bedroom. “I haven’t even fucked you yet.”

Chapter ELEVEN

SHANNON

I stretched when I woke, feeling the dull ache in my thighs as I stretched out my legs. It took a moment to remember where I was. The plush cover pulled up to my chin and the softest pillow beneath my cheek helped me remember as soon as I opened my eyes.

As my legs moved, my foot brushed against Oliver’s legs behind me and I rolled over.

He was still asleep, lying on his back with one hand thrown over his eyes to block out the sunlight from the blinds he hadn’t shut the night before.

Not that there’d been time. He’d done everything to me he promised he would, ravaged me until I was listless. He wrung so many orgasms from me that I lost count. My abs hurt when I pushed myself up to an elbow to get a better look at him.

The last time I’d spent the night with him, he’d woken and left the house before I was awake, so I hadn’t gotten to see him like this.

He slept with his lips slightly parted; the dark blond stubble on his cheeks was short but thick and coarse. When he’d scratched his face against my thighs the night before, multiple times, seemingly unable to get enough of me in his mouth, that hair had done wicked things to my senses.

Oliver Powell didn’t go down on me like it was a job or a duty, but like it was his destiny to be between my thighs.

I took in the long lines of his body hidden beneath the thin white sheet and smiled as my gaze trailed his length. One leg was straight, the other bent to the side and exposed. One arm was set across his abdomen, almost cupping his morning erection tenting the sheets, covering what was quickly becoming my most favorite part of him.

Not that his body wasn’t firm and defined and tanned and absolutely perfect, but the things he could do with his cock would give me memories to masturbate to for the rest of my life.

“If you’re going to keep staring at my dick, you might as well get a closer look.” He dropped his hand from his eyes and turned to me with that surly, bossy smirk of his. His eyes were open into slits, almost challenging me.

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