Page 57 of The Back Forty
This isn’t about experimenting anymore, this is aboutexperiencing,and I fear I’ll never be able to look at Lawson’s mouth, beard or tongue the same after this.
His hand releases my pelvis and grips my thigh harder, spreading me even wider to make room for his shoulders, anchoring me as I rock against his mouth. The friction of his beard, the heat of his tongue, the pressure of his fingers—it’s all spiraling, building and tightening into red, hot need.
“I’m—fuck—I’m so close,” I gasp, clawing at his hair, my hips tilting up desperately.
And then, right when I'm almost there, he stops.Tears his mouth away from me, but keeps his fingers buried deep, still curling and pumping as he locks eyes with mine.
“W-what are you doing?!” I shout in frustration.
“I need to stop,” he says, voice rough, lips glistening with me. “If you’re close already.”
My brain short-circuits.
“Why!?” I shout again. “It’s been like fifteen minutes of torture!”
He chuckles. “It’s been like three minutes tops, Dani. You said you didn’t like edging. That you didn't like the slow burn.” His gaze is molten. “I’m showing you that you’re wrong.”
“Why?” I manage to squeak out, breath shaky. “Why are you torturing me? No woman reading a romance novel wants the slow burn torture to drag out for this long. Eventually, we just need them to get it on so that they can have a release."Well, that's not entirely true. I do enjoy a good, torturous slow burn romance where two people fight everything inside them to not be together."And no woman wants to be teased when all she wants is an orgasm.”
Lawson’s voice deepens as his gaze locks on mine. “Dani, I’m torturing myself more than you right now. All I want to do is suck that sweet clit into my mouth and bury my face in your pussy. I want to fill you up and then taste your pussy dripping with my cum in it. I’m hard as a rock and probably leaking in my denim right now.”
My brain blips for half a second as I try to process that. I wish I could see him better, but he’s kneeling, so his dick is somewhere pressed against the front of the couch hidden from my view.
“Then do it,” I hiss, throwing every ounce of logic and professionalism to the wind.
Screw decorum. Screw whatever the Marshall HR manual would say about this. I want his mouth on me. I want to come on his tongue and cock again and again.
He chuckles, wicked and warm, and then without warning, he pulls his fingers out, grips my waist and flips me around so I’m facing the back of the couch. My elbows dig into the cushions, knees on the seat as I steady myself. I’m on all fours, my ass in the air, completely exposed to him.
“What’s happening?” I ask, heart jackhammering as I glance over my shoulder and try to catch his gaze.
“I’m tasting you from a different angle.”
Any lingering embarrassment about him being my boss? Gone. I’m still wearing my sweatshirt, but everything else is bared to him, and Lawson now has a full, unobstructed view of my ass and pussy from behind.
His big hands run down the curve of my spine before spreading my cheeks apart. Cool air hits my rim, and I flinch. I’m not sure whether I should clench or relax but I definitely just clenched.
“You ever had your ass played with before?” he murmurs, sounding both amused and curious as his fingers brush over my puckered hole.
Yep, just clenched again. Is that sexy or am I totally blowing this whole foreplay thing?
“Feels like a question my boss probably shouldn’t be asking.”
He leans forward, chest pressed against my back, voice gravel in my ear. “But fucking your pussy with my fingers until you come is fair game? Tasting your slick clit and rubbing my beard on your thighs is appropriate?”
Before I can snap back with a snarky answer, two thick fingers curl deep inside me. I cry out, arching into the pressure as he starts to pump, the angle hittingjust rightto light my body on fire.
Damn, why does it feel this good to be fingered by him?
His other hand finds my clit, rubbing in tight, fast circles, making my legs tremble. My arms are jelly, my core’s unraveling, and I’m so closeto the point that I think he might finally let me come. The pressure builds, and I chase it, chasehim, ready to fall apart until he pulls his hand away again, stopping the release immediately.
I let out a pathetic whine. "Why are you torturing me?" My cheeks are flushed, my chest is sensitive, and my pussy’s throbbing with need.
“I'm not letting you come on my fingers,” he says. “It’s my face tonight, Dani. I told you, I’m proving a point, remember?”
And then he drops his mouth to me from behind. Tongue flat, he licks me from clit to slit, slow and claiming, before he plunges it inside of me deep and greedy with a groan. His tongue is long, and I just know in that moment, he’s probably a hell of a kisser too.
I scream when he sucks down on my clit, my body jerks back into his face like I’ve lost all control, which let's be honest, I have. His beard scrapes my thighs, his fingers find my clit again, and he devours me. Growling. Groaning. Saying things like“You taste like honey and woman." "Best pussy I've ever had,"and“I can’t get enough of this cunt,”while his tongue drives into me with an urgency that makes my knees threaten to give out.
