Page 112 of Mexico Can Choke On It
“Excuse me?”
I glide my palms slowly up her thighs, relishing how they twitch under my touch. “It’s a simple question. Give me a number.”
She shifts against the sheets, suddenly seeming less sure of herself. “Uh… two, maybe? Hard to keep track when you’re swimming in tequila and hoping the dude has a clue where your clit is.”
“Then consider this your warning. I will be doubling it. Walking tomorrow is going to be… ambitious.”
She reaches for my waistband with grabby hands. “Enough with the threats. I need you inside me right fucking now.”
I clutch her wrists to restrain her. “That’s not how this works. I set the pace.”
The issue is: I’m drowning in options and can’t pick a starting point.
Every fantasy I’ve ever pushed aside about her floods in at once—her riding my face, bending her over the bed, the dresser… trying advanced positions in the Kama Sutra. The sheer number of possibilities has me frozen.
This woman is giving me complete access. But what sends her over the edge? Where should I start? This kind of sexual freedom? It’s uncharted territory.
“Bryce.” She cups my jaw, anchoring my attention. “Stop using your head and think with your dick. Or swear to God, I’ll flip you onto your back and ninja fuck you until that fancy headboard snaps in half.”
My cock twitches hard. “Good luck managing that when you don’t have the use of your hands.”
I pull the silk belt free from my robe and bind it around her wrists—anticipation sparking in her eyes. I cinch the fabric tight. The spindle headboard creaks as I knot her to it, her arms extended overhead, body arched and waiting.
“Well, this escalated quickly,” she says, giving the restraint an experimental tug.
She’s splayed out before me like a work of art—her bound arms highlighting the sleek line of her torso, red lace mapping out a trail of temptation. Her dark hair is a glorious mess against the white sheets.
Growing bolder, I slide my hand inside my boxers, swiping precum from the tip before bringing my thumb to her mouth. Her eager tongue darts out before I issue my command.
“Now, now. Good things come to bad girls who wait.” I pause for a heartbeat. “Taste.”
She draws the digit into the wet heat of her mouth without hesitation, her tongue working magic while she hollows her cheeks to create suction. My body shivers. I yank my hand away before she can finish destroying my self-control.
“Nice try, but I’m in charge.”
I lean over her bound form and trace my tongue—from the hollow of her throat down to her navel—savoring the way her muscles jump and flutter under my attention. When I venture lower, dipping just beneath the lace waistband, she arches against me with a sharp inhale.
“Aww,” I murmur into the damp fabric. “Don’t worry, lovely. I’m coming back for you. But not yet.”
“Did you just flirt with my vagina?”
“Yes.” I press a kiss to her hip.
Every minute with Petra sheds another layer of the man I’ve been pretending to be. This protective, controlled image I present to the world. With her, I am… free.
I shift over her body, my silk boxers dragging against her lace panties as I brace my forearms beside her shoulders. My mouth hovers just above hers. I speak low, letting every syllable drag.
“I already know how incredible it feels to mouth-fuck your perfect little pussy. So now I need to know how it feels when it tightens around my cock and milks me dry. But first…” I drag my teeth along the curve of her jaw, teasing. “First, I want to hear you sing for me.”
My hips drop, pressing the full length of my erection over her panty-covered clit.
Silk meets lace. I roll my hips into her.Fuck yes!
A sharp breath hisses between her teeth. Her back arches. I grind harder against the slick center of her panties. My cock throbs at the feel of her wetness, and I haven’t even slid inside her yet.
“Still think I’m boring, Pip?”
Petra doesn’t answer. She can’t. She’s making this keening, strangled sound that turns my spine to liquid and makes my balls pull tight. She tilts her hips higher, rubbing greedily against my cock.
