Page 50 of Festive Faking
Where did he go?
“Down here.” There was a tap on my inner thigh.
Taking a deep breath, I lifted my head and about damn near swallowed my tongue when I saw his face half hidden by my pussy as he peeked up at me.
A corner of his lips hitched up. “I have to say, pink is definitely your color. It drove me crazy on your lips and then your nipples, but damn.” His eyes dipped to that intimate place between my thighs, and he let out an impressed exhale. “Pretty sure this pussy is my favorite of them all.”
My blood heated, and it didn’t matter that I’d already come once. I wantedmore.
A wolfish gleam entered his dark eyes. “Remember those ribs I ate yesterday?”
“Uh, yeah?” How could I forget? It had been quite the spectacle.
“Same rules apply. Gonna lick you clean, not wasting a single drop of this feast.”
Before my sluggish brain could process that, his tongue darted out and flicked over my clit.
Oh my God. It should be illegal how good that felt.
My hands anchored in the strands of his hair, and he chuckled against the sensitive flesh, making me jolt. “Like that, sweetheart?”
Instead of words, I dragged him by the hair back to where I wanted him.
His amusement was audible. “Yes, ma’am.”
When he returned his attention to my waiting pussy this time, he flattened his tongue, maintaining steady pressure as I rocked against it. Even though he was the one performing oral, he let me be in charge.
He wasn’t as domineering as I would have expected. His insistent desire for me to enjoy this experience had my heart fluttering.
Sex isn’t love, Aspen. Don’t forget that.
There wasn’t time to tell my inner pessimist to pipe down because Mac teased a finger inside me, curling it just right, and I shattered. My pussy locked down as my muscles tensed in unison, the breath stolen from my lungs. I opened and closed my mouth to no avail, unable to draw in air. Black spots danced in my vision the longer I was deprived of oxygen, and I feared I might pass out.
The last thought I had was:Not a bad way to die.
Chapter 20
Mac
Goddamn, I wanted tobathe in her juices. But I’d made a promise to devour every trace of her arousal, which wasn’t easy with how she kept coming on my tongue, flooding my face.
The shaking thighs thrown over my shoulders dropped open, signaling that she was spent, and I peeked up to find Aspen’s eyes closed, head turned to the side.
Did she fucking pass out?
The boost to my ego at the idea of making her black out from too much pleasure was shoved aside in favor of concern for her well-being.
“Aspen?” I wiped my drenched chin with the back of my hand.
No reply. No movement.
Well, shit.
At least with her chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, it eliminated the fear that her loss of consciousness was more serious.
Crawling over her prone form, I straddled her hips, leaning over to cradle her face. Stroking softly with my thumbs, I tried to rouse her. “Aspen, can you hear me?”
A soft moan slipped past her parted lips, and she shifted beneath me.
