Page 94 of The Tape Job
“Okay, if that’s what you want. Friends it is,” I shrug.
“I’m not saying that’s what I want!”
“Then what do you want? I mean, I don’t think we have to put a label on it or anything but—”
“How about just friends that help to relieve some of the pressure?” He moves his hand to trail along my back this time, and he knows exactly what he’s doing to fuel the fire.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” I know it’s literally the worst idea he’s ever had. And we both know it. One taste of the pie and we’ll both be coming back for more. But the idea of having that delicious feeling coursing through my veins is clouding my judgement. Is this my insatiable arousal talking? Because, at this point, I’ll do whatever the hell he wants us to do if it means having him in my bed.
With that, he rolls me onto my back, and he’s on top of me in a flash—his hands holding my wrists above my head and his knees on either side of my hips. I can feel him pushing against me, and I’m ready to scream with frustration.
“Is this what you want?” It’s almost a growl and I bite my lip, nodding. “Let’s think this through. Do you want me to go home?” he asks, looking right at me. His face is not even a centimetre away from mine; I can feel the stubble of his beard on my face.
“No,” I shake my head.
“Do you want me to kiss you here?” he leans down and peppers a kiss on my neck before kissing the spot between my tits. I can feel myself quivering.
“Words, Vic.”
“Yes.”
“Do you want me to make you come?” he purposefully flicks his hips, pushing his dick against me, and I yelp before trying to wriggle underneath him, desperate for friction.
“Is that a no?” he relaxes his grip a bit. He knows exactly what he’s doing.
“No, I … please, Lee,” I say.
“Please, what?”
“Please, I’m dying here. Please, make me come.”
“That’s a good girl. All you had to do was ask.” He leans in closer, kissing a spot under my ear before whispering, “You don’t really have to beg, baby girl, because I want it just as much as you do.” My mouth forms an ‘o.’ “I want to taste you, I want to hear you, I want you to come while I suck your clit.”
A whimper escapes my throat, and he shifts his weight so that he’s lying next to me; but his lips don’t leave my skin. His hand finds my left nipple through the fabric of my cami, and he pinches hard. A wave of pleasure shoots all the way through me, and I’m eager for him to travel lower—hands, tongue, dick. I don’t care. I want him.
“Slide off your shorts and panties, then spread your legs,” he says, and he fumbles with the fabric covering my boobs before pushing it up and out of the way.
I’m watching his tongue trailing up towards the curve of my breast instead of concentrating on getting half naked. But a further prompt gets me moving, and I feel the excitement absolutely everywhere. I wouldn’t be surprised if I came with a single touch, but I wriggle out of my clothes. He takes a nipple between his teeth and sucks deeply while pushing my legs apart.
“Please, Lee,” I am at the point of begging now.
“Remember when I made you come just by doing this?” He sucks and gently bites my nipple before moving to the next, making me whimper.
“Yes,” I breathe. As much as I remember, I want him to touch me a lot farther south. I’m desperate for it. In fact, I make a decision to relieve a bit of the pressure. My hand sneaks downward. But of course, he grabs my wrist and pushes me away.
“No, you don’t,” he says, and looks up at me with a grin that half excites me, half scares me. The fear I have now is that of being too scared to come because I may just pass out. But in a flash, he’s between my legs as he breathes me in.
“I fucking love your pussy. Have I ever told you that? You’re already wet for me.”
All I manage is a whimper. Then he spreads my legs and bends my knees, pushing my thighs back. I feel so very exposed, but I don’t care. He kisses the insides of my thighs. I close my eyes, gasping when I feel him brush a finger from my clit to my pussy before sliding it inside.
“You’re so fucking tight, Vic.” Then I hear him suck his finger. “Fucking beautiful.”
I’m almost quivering. When I feel his tongue flick my clit with the briefest of movements, I’m close to begging him. It’s only when I feel his hand on my pussy again that I know he’s going to give me what I want: a Liam-induced orgasm.
His tongue circles my clit and because I’m so close to coming already, I don’t care about anything else. I feel like I need to put all my effort into holding off, but he keeps going. Circles, and more circles—then he abruptly stops. His tongue vibrates against me before he slips a finger into my pussy.
I let out an involuntary cry, and he has to remind me I definitely need to be quiet.
