Page 54 of Before You Can Blink
One palm smoothed over her backside to tease the seam running between her thighs, putting firm pressure where I knew she was throbbing for me.
“Are you wet for me, Daze?”
Her ragged breathing fanned my cheek. “Yes.”
I hummed. “It’s been too long since I’ve stuffed that tight pussy of yours. Gonna need you dripping or else I’m afraid I won’t fit.”
“I can take it. Please.”
She knew I loved to hear her beg. And usually that would be enough to tempt me into abandoning my plans to draw this out. But I couldn’t ignore the craving to push my wife to the limit, to watch her fall apart so many times that I lost count, and she became a whimpering, blissed-out, overstimulated mess.
“Liar,” I practically snarled, my primal side taking over.
Without warning, I lifted Daisy into my arms and walked us across the tiny room, only to drop her roughly on the workbench built into the wall.
My hands tore at the fastenings of her fly, wrenching the fabric down her thighs, and I growled in frustration when it got caught up on her boots. Those hit the floor with a dull thud, and I finally managed to rid her body of that hypnotizing denim.
I almost felt bad for shredding her panties, knowing we couldn’t afford to replace them, but I was too far gone to care.
Not needing to stay quiet for the first time in over a year, I let out a lewd groan when I parted her thighs to peek at the treasure hidden between them. “Damn, baby, you weren’t kidding.” I ran a fingertip through her slick seam, pausing to rub a teasing circle over her clit. “You’re drenched.”
Her hands fisted the fabric of my shirt, hauling me closer to work the buttons. Though the task became increasingly difficult when I pushed two fingers deep inside her and began pumping, stealing her focus.
There was a dull thud when her head dropped back against the wall, and her eyes slid shut. “So good. Give me more.”
Dropping to my knees, I gave her exactly that. My tongue swiped through her slick flesh, and when her sweet flavor burst across my tastebuds, I ate at her like a man who’d been starved. It had been so long since we’d been granted the luxury of time to enjoy foreplay.
“God, I missed this.” The words came out muffled, my lips unwilling to leave their position in paradise.
My hat was knocked from my head and fingers gripped the strands of my hair, forcing me even deeper into her open pussy, if that was even possible. “Less talking.”
Yes, ma’am.
Fingers continuing to pump, with an emphasis on that front wall, I swiped my tongue lazily through her slit. Her mound crashed into my noserepeatedly as her hips lifted, trying to find that perfect combination that would throw her over.
Her breathless whines from above told me she was close, the kind of close that usually required the help of a toy to get her past the finish line. But we didn’t have one out here, so I’d have to give her my best imitation and pray that it was enough to do the trick.
Using the tip of my tongue, I flicked furiously against that hidden pearl designed to bring her pleasure.
Daisy pulled my hair so hard my scalp screamed in painful protest, and she cried out. “Yes, right there! Don’t stop!”
As if that was even an option.
I doubled my efforts, increasing the pace of my fingers to slam into her so forcefully that her body jolted with each thrust. Then I pulled her clit between my lips and tugged gently with my teeth.
My wife’s ass levitated off the workbench as she screamed through her release, the thighs pressed tight to my ears muting the sound. Pride surged in my veins, urging me to keep going, even when weak hands tried to push me away.
No, if I could coax one orgasm out of her this way, it would be even easier to steal another.
Her arousal dripped down my chin, threatening to drown me, but I couldn’t stop. Not when I could feel her trembling body beginning to tense, right on the edge. Back bowing, her sweaty form grew taut for a second time, and guttural groans spilled from Daisy’s lips, followed by broken sobs as she begged for mercy.
My smirk was automatic, knowing I’d gotten my begging, just not in the way she expected.
Sated, Daisy slumped bonelessly against the wall at her back.
“Nuh-uh,” I chided, clicking my tongue. “Not done with you yet.”
My girl was the equivalent of a rag doll as I removed her sweater and unclasped her bra, adding them to the pile of discarded clothing at my feet. The only indication she hadn’t passed out on me was the throaty moan that sounded when I sucked one of her peaked nipples into my mouth.
