Page 31 of The First Kind of Love
I do as my woman says, sweeping my tongue back and forth against that inner ring of muscle that beckons me deeper, that hollows in spastic pulses and ushers a flood of liquid desire over my taste buds. She’s sensitive—like, one-touch-and-she’ll-detonate sensitive.
And I’m a sick fuck for being turned on by it.
I haven’t come up for a proper breath in minutes. I’m going to have a headache by the time she’s done ripping my hair out. When I stimulate the perfect nerve, I can feel her standing leg give, and I pull away just enough to witness the raw pleasure contorting her features, the tremble of her lower lip, the tears waterfalling down her pinkened cheeks.
“Don’t—don’t stop,” she pants, conjuring enough energy to glance down at me.
I lick the essence of her off my lips, deriving a drawn-out groan from her in the process. “Does my girl like it when I lick…here?”
My tongue lathes over her soaking flaps, nowhere near deep enough to carve her out like I was doing before, but her whole body tenses, nonetheless.
“Yes.”
Barely a whisper, far from an admission.
“Say it, Sunshine. Use your words.”
“Yes, Fulton. I…love…when you lick there.”
“How about when I bite…here?” I ask, taking one of her southern lips between my teeth and pulling gently.
A moan loud enough to set off a goddamn avalanche permeates the hotel room. Even though I’m not nose-deep inside of her, I can still feel the way her poor pussy clenches around nothing, searching helplessly for the friction that’ll bring her to the snow-cloaked precipice.
The hunger inside me is untamable, bloodthirsty. She’s so obedient, so willing, sodesperate. She’s the perfect prey—a lamb caught between the maw of a wolf, at my very mercy, with a hold so loose on her inhibitions that she wouldn’t dare be anything but malleable under my hands. There’s a creature molting inside me, shedding its innocent exterior to make way for its true nature. I’m not myself when I’m around her.
A broken plea leaps from her tongue, her words initiating a chemical reaction to the wick of lust waiting patiently inside me. “Y-yes. I need…more.”
I sit back on my heels, palming the giant bulge in my swim trunks, hooded eyes scanning in lazy perusal over the goddess before me. “I know. You’re doing so well. Now let me watch you play with your clit like a good girl.”
Whoa. Where the hell did that come from? I can’t dirty talk for shit.
With core-shaking tremors, Shiloh does as I say, snaking her arm between her bitten thighs. There are translucent streaks on her face, and her eyes are tapioca pearls ringed in the warmest of brown hues, now lacquered with a thin gloss of tears.
She flicks her finger over her lips, gathering enough momentum to continue in a swift succession, and I’m drooling like a fucking mutt as I watch moisture glaze her skin. Thefullness in my balls is becoming harder to ignore, and the pain is to the point where it hurts totouchmy cock, let alone rub it. Sharp, needle-fine pinpricks lance up my shaft.
Shiloh submerges her digit to the knuckle—the magnified sound of squelching echoing off the walls—and her face momentarily screws up before bliss chases the teeth-gritting discomfort away. Tiny little mewls pervade the air, gelled together with half-hearted curses, and she heightens the pain in my dick when she sinks another finger inside her greedy cunt.
“Fuck, Sunshine. That’s it. Look at how wet you are. You’re so beautiful like this.”
She rides her hand, the warmth from her body producing condensation on the glass. “It’s too much. I can’t?—”
I can barely focus on her. I feel like I’m about to pass out. I’m not sure what happens next, but the dominant monster that prowls inside of me finally breaks free from its shackles.
A growl rumbles through my chest, and I rub my thumb over the leaking tip of my cock. “You can, and you will. Now spit on it.”
Shock shadows Shiloh’s expression, but she removes her hand to follow through with my order, spitting into her palm before slapping it over the hood of her clit, where the mix of wetness is scratching an itch I didn’t even know I had.
Jesus…fuck. I can’t take this anymore. I pull my pants down inhumanly fast, letting my cock finally spring out and bow down from its heavy weight, angry, red-hued, and vein-riddled.
Shiloh gasps and stares at it. “I can help?—”
“You are helping,” I insist, gently moving her hand aside so I can feast on the sweetest pussy I’ll ever taste.
Once I slurp up the thickness of her spit and the proliferation of her salt-tinged cum, I drown in her. It’s the kind of drowning that crushes my lungs and fuzzes my senses, but I love it. I’m determined to make her gush all over my face, andjudging by the straining of her muscles, she’s almost there. She just needs a little…push.
My tongue dances inside her, and with a heave of her chest, her pussy gives one last flutter before she’s coming inside my mouth. I swallow everything she gives me, so inexplicably high on her that I have every intention of riding out this tidal wave of euphoria before hitting the cold, hard ground.
I’m so focused on licking her walls clean that I don’t even see my own orgasm careening toward me at hyper speed, crashing headfirst into my body and causing me to spurt plentiful, pearlescent ropes onto the hardwood floor. I just narrowly miss her feet, and Shiloh has to practically pry me off her cunt.
