Page 5 of Breathing Wisteria
Flynn
“Fuck.” The word escapes my mouth with a hiss as her mouth slides up and down my shaft. Warm and wet, and completely fucking perfect.
The sound of her gagging grabs my attention and I realize I’ve broken her golden BJ rule. No deep throating.
Pulling back, that luscious mouth releases me and I’m left with just her tiny hand grasping me, slowly jerking me off.
Too slowly to get me off, and she fucking knows it. Bright green eyes gaze up and I feel my dick jerk in her hand.
“I’ve warned you about that, Irish,” she reprimands. I try to hide my smirk because, seriously? Only this woman could scold me during a blow job and still have me painfully hard.
“Lost my head for a second.” I thread my hand through her long, auburn hair and electricity pulses through me as I drag her up to stand. “Both of them.”
“Jesus, that was lame.”
I open my mouth to defend myself but, luckily for me, this girl has a different, much better, use for my mouth and I wrap my arms around her, enjoying the slide of her tongue against mine. The gentle nips at my bottom lip that have me rocking against her, trying to create the friction we both need. Her noises are becoming more and more desperate and, forgetting any pretense of gentleness, I roughly pick her up, determined not to wait a second longer to be buried balls deep in her sweet pussy.
She wraps her legs around me, and it may have been a while since we were last here, but our bodies haven’t forgotten exactly how good we can make each other feel.
I pull her even closer and I can feel exactly how wet she is as she grinds against my bare skin. Sliding my hand down, I cup her ass and the moan that falls from my lips is so loud it practically echoes around the hotel room.
Reaching around from behind, I move her panties to the side and, with no preamble at all, push my middle finger inside her. Her responding gasp brings a smirk to my lips. I fucking love every one of her filthy sounds.
Her head falls to my chest, a halo of red surrounding her face and she pushes back against my finger.
“More,” she rasps.
Happy to oblige, I fill her with a second finger, reveling in her breathless whimpers. Stopping my movement toward the bed, I abruptly spin her around, push her up against the wall, and slam my mouth to hers. She opens for me immediately and the taste of her, combined with the feel of her pussy tightening around my fingers, has me desperate to come.
Just as I am sliding a third finger in, the irritating buzz of my cell phone starts up, distracting us both.
“Ignore it.” I sound like a commanding asshole, but if I don’t get her off in the next thirty seconds, my head will explode.
And, again, I mean both of them.
She takes me at my word, and I close my eyes when her hands begin teasing down my chest, nails applying just enough pressure. She’s close to my cock, so fucking close, when the phone starts back up.
Her movements still and she looks up at me, her eyes sad, reminding me of the last time we saw each other.
“You should get that, it’s probably important.”
“No.” My voice is firm. “This is more important.”
“This isn’t real, Flynn. You know that.” A gentle kiss is placed on my mouth. “Answer the phone, baby.”
I wake with a start, my phone jumping all over the side table, blaring the annoying tone I use in an effort to force myself to answer calls.
Still half-awake and pissed as all fuck to have been woken from my dream, I snatch the cell up without looking at the caller ID.
“What.” Too annoyed for niceties, my tone is harsh.
“Well, good morning to you too, grump.”
Charlie’s gentle voice has me on alert straight away.
“What’s wrong? Is she okay?” I try to tamp down my apprehension, but it’s hopeless. Wyatt Monroe will always be my Achilles heel and I have no fucking problem with that.
“Relax, cowboy.” A small smile crosses my lips at the old nickname. “She’s…” Her voice trails off and the familiar anxiety-driven numbness settles over me.
