Page 100 of Axe-ing for Trouble
“I need to taste you,” he said as he kicked his bedroom door open. “Fuck, I’m craving it.”
He eased me to my feet and pulled my tank off over my head, being sure not to hurt my shoulder.
“Sit on my face, Trouble. Ride my tongue.”
My heart caught in my throat and insecurity rose inside me. I’d never been in that position before, and honestly, I wasn’t sure I wanted to be. It seemed selfish almost.
He clutched my wrist, yanking me toward him. “Please. I’ve been fantasizing about it.” With a groan, he buried his face in my neck and peppered kisses on my pulse point as he slipped his thumbs beneath the waistband of my leggings and pulled them down.
The moment I kicked them off, his hands were on my ass, pulling me closer.
“Come on,” he urged. “Give me a taste.”
My legs shook, anticipation winning out over apprehension. This man was begging to pleasure me. The sensation was thrilling. Like a euphoric dream I was afraid I’d wake up from before my need could be sated.
“Okay.” I took a step back. “But only if you promise to be a good boy and make me come.”
Eyes going wide, he shucked his shirt, and with movements as shaky as mine had felt, he removed his glasses and his pants, then lay on the bed.
For a moment, I didn’t move. I was too caught up in admiring the specimen of a man laid out before me. He was broad and muscular, with dark chest hair leading down to his throbbing erection.
There was nothing I would deny this man. And as I crawled up the length of his body, kissing, licking, and biting every inch of his delicious skin, my need only intensified.
I’d only made it to his chest before he was pulling me up and positioning my aching core over his mouth.
“Hold on to the headboard,” he instructed.
I barely had enough time to process his instructions before he anchored my thighs with his strong hands and got to work. This man knew exactly what I needed, lavishing my clit with attention as I adjusted to the sensation.
Eyes closed, I held on with all my strength, and when he spread my ass cheeks wide to get more access, my back bowed and a flame ignited in my core. His mouth and tongue hit all the right spots, pulling embarrassingly loud cries of pleasure from me. The angle, the intensity, and the sheer eroticism of this position sent me barreling toward an intense orgasm in record time.
As I rode him with abandon, he grunted beneath me.
My stomach lurched, and I paused, worried I’d hurt him. But as I looked down and saw the fire in his eyes as he continued to lick and suck and send bolts of pleasure through me, I realized that though I’d stopped, the rhythmic movements continued. I peered over my shoulder and gasped.
He was stroking his cock, hard and desperate, as he worked me over.
Grinning, I lifted my hips.
“Can’t stop myself,” he said, still stroking, his mouth brushing my pussy lips. “Watching you riding my face is so hot.”
The way his strong hand worked over his length fanned the fire already burning in my belly.
“You did this.” He grunted. “You make me so fucking hard I’m sure it’ll kill me. Now get back on my face and come, Trouble.”
I did what he asked, but I couldn’t help but watch over my shoulder as he jerked his thick cock in rhythm with the movements of his tongue.
“You are so hot, fucking your hand while you lick my pussy.” I moaned, eyes rolling at the pleasure engulfing me.
He sped up and doubled down, each movement oozing with intensity.
Fuck. He liked my dirty words. “Such a good boy. I want you to come while you fuck me with your tongue.”
The words had barely escaped me when my orgasm swamped me. I screamed, my core clenching, my vision going dark. I gripped the headboard, my thighs shaking as he moved even faster, driving me over the edge into the kind of orgasm that bent space and time.
There was no self-doubt, no worry, no hesitancy as I rode his face and screamed, clenching and spasming as I exploded again and again.
I was riding out the last waves of my orgasm, peeking over my shoulder again, when his movements got jerky and he came in long spurts all over his stomach, making a filthy mess that somehow turned me on more.
