Page 72 of Eat Slay Love

I took my time, worshipping her pussy with my mouth, pulling her into my lips, letting her feel the heat, the devotion, the hunger.

And when I sucked on those folds, the sound was deliciously obscene.

A wet, filthy noise that sent a violent tremor through her body.

“Oh—Fabien—fuck!” Her voice was high and uncontrolled.

She was dripping even more now.

Her slickness coated my lips, my chin, my fingers that gripped her thighs, keeping her open, keeping her at my mercy.

And I had no doubt that I was making her pussy messy.

Uninhibited.

Utterly wrecked.

And I wasn’t fucking done.

I moved my mouth to her clit, my fingers spreading her wider, exposing every inch of her to me.

I sucked hard.

Her body jerked violently. “Fuck! Fuck! Oh my God!”

Her thighs snapped close around my head.

My tongue lashed over her swollen clit.

Licking.

Sucking.

Flicking.

Torturing her.

Savoring too.

Long, slow, wet drags.

Her body convulsed just how I intended.

She was teetering on the edge.

Dangling over oblivion.

Sucking on her clit, I slipped two fingers inside her pussy, curling them just right, pressing against the spot that would end her.

“Oh!” Her back bowed off the seat, her mouth falling open, a silent scream hanging in the air.

“Cum for me.” I growled against her pussy.

And then. . .she shattered.

Her moan—long, broken, filthy—filled the air, bouncing off the glass of the car, echoing in the tight, charged space.

The driver surely heard.

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