Page 125 of Biggest Player
Just my top.
“You’re good enough to eat.”
Speaking of eating. “You haven’t fed me dessert yet.”
He leans into me, so tall his hard-on and pelvis are pressed into the apex of my thighs.
With hot breath against my ear he murmurs, “How about I give you a taste right now?”
A taste . . .
His hands slide down my sides, gripping my hips firmly before adjusting my position on the counter. The stone might be cold against my skin, but the heat between us more than makes up for it.
Damn, he’s sexy.
Dex’s lips find mine in a searing kiss, his tongue exploring my mouth, both of us suddenly hungry all over again. His big rough hands travel up my thighs, spreading them wider as he steps even closer still.
I can feel his hard length as it strains through the fabric of his pants.
“Stay right here,” he whispers with a wicked smile, then turns and goes to the fridge. He stands in front of it for several seconds while he searches, finally holding up a canister of whipped cream.
Victory.
Shaking the can vigorously, he’s back between my legs. He sprays a dollop onto my inner thigh. I gasp at the sudden chill. At the sudden delight. At the anticipation.
It makes my breath hitch watching him.
Before I can say a word, his mouth is back on me—on my skin—warm and ravenous, licking and sucking the sweet cream.
The sensation has me shivering, electricity shooting through my body, my hands instinctively clutching the edge of the counter for support. Transfixed, I watch as his tongue works its way up my stomach, pushing my shirt up, all the while leaving a trail of fire in its wake.
“You are way too good at this.”
He pauses long enough to glance up at me, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You taste like I want to taste more of you.”
A sudden burst of boldness has me pulling my shirt up and over my head. I toss it to the kitchen floor, then unhook my bra. Arching my back as his mouth moves higher.
I sound as if I’ve just run a mile, my breathing ragged.
I feel needy and greedy.
Dex’s fingers slide over my flesh, slipping between my legs to find me already wet and ready.
His touch is gentle and demanding and driving me wild with eagerness.
I can barely stand it.
Craving closeness, I lean forward, wanting him to touch me all over. I want to kiss him—but I’d rather have him kissing me ...if you catch my drift.
Dex does not disappoint.
With a low growl, he drops to his knees; the whipped cream has melted into a sticky, sweet treat.
My pussy? That’s sticky and sweet, too, and he buries his face in it, tongue licking over my most sensitive spots, shock waves of pleasure coursing through me.
I grapple, hands tangling in his hair.
Sucking.
