Page 99 of Damaged Mogul
He brings his legs closer together, as if he’s able to read my thoughts. “You’ll use my shoulders for support.”
I’m a little awkward, but I assume the position.
We’re so close. I’m sure he can hear the frantic beating of my heart.
“Lower your hips for me. I want your pussy hovering over my cock.”
“Aren’t you going to use a condom?”
“I’m not going to fuck you yet. I want your clit to get acquainted with my tip.”
Jesus Christ.
Jean-Philippe’s bedroom vocabulary extended to a few go-to phrases.
“Tu me suces ma bite géante et tu me lèches mes couilles.”
Translation:Suck my enormous cock and my balls.
His cock wasn’t enormous, but I never pointed that out.
“Je veux une branlette espagnole ce soir.”
Translation:I want to fuck your boobs tonight.
“J’aime jouer avec ta petite chatte.”
Translation:I love playing with your pussy.
For that last one, he’d add disturbing meowing sounds.
Compared to the Frenchman, Gage holds a PhD degree in dirty talking.
Come to think about it, it was all about Jean-Philippe.
Selfish asshole cheater.
“Is that okay with you?”
Gage’s question forces me back to the moment.
If my clit getting acquainted with his tip results in me having another core-shaking orgasm, I’m all in. “More than okay.”
He places a hand on my hip, positioning me the way he wants.
When his slick tip glides over my clit, I let out a long moan.
Granted, his head is much wider than the tips of my fingers, I was unprepared for the flurry of new sensations.
I relish them all.
He does it again.
Good God.
My fingers claw their way into his thick, silky hair, and my head lolls back.
The lewd sound of his slickness circling my clit is so hot.
