Page 61 of Steal My Heart
“He doesnottouch you.” My body vibrates with angry possessiveness.
“Will you be touching Laurie? Dancing? Holding hands? Kissing?” Remi challenges. “You don’t have a leg to stand on.”
“Let the mayor touch you, and he won’t have either of his legs to stand on. I’ll cut them off and toss them overboard, feed the alligator while you watch.” My words are wild, consequences be damned.
“You wouldn’t.” She gasps.
“Try me.”
I shove Remi’s legs apart and jerk the hem of her dress out of the way. Dipping my head, my nose skims along the fabric of herpanties, and I grab both ends of the waistband, giving them an aggressive tug.
The fabric rips clean in two as Remi gasps.
Spreading her pussy open with the V of my fingers, my tongue skates across her lovely pink clit.
“Oh,” she moans.
My tongue lazy, I lap at her glistening desire. “Naughty little pickpocket, already dripping for me.”
Remi
I can’t deny it: I am already dripping for him.
Just sex. This can be just sex.
Denial sounds good to me as I roll my hips in rhythm with the swipes of Angelo’s tongue.
“Did you know this pussy is the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted?” He murmurs, giving my clit a surprisingly gentle kiss.
“Oh!” But then I cry out when his rough beard rubs back and forth over my swollen clit.
“I’m obsessed with this pussy, and my cock hasn’t even claimed it yet.” Angelo drags his tongue from my clit to my opening, and back up.
Over and over and over.
My head lolls to the side, my legs spreading wide for him on a delirious moan.
“That’s a good girl. Keep those legs spread wide while I make you come on my tongue.”
Threading my fingers through Angelo’s hair, my hips undulate with each movement of his tongue. If I’m hurting him, he doesn’t complain.
Angelo’s exploration is slow and methodical as he looks up at me from between my legs. The most dangerous man I’ve ever met, on his knees before me. The thought alone is enough to nearly make me orgasm.
I shudder violently, and he hums his approval, ruthlessly working his tongue to the side of my clit, barely brushing it with each swipe.
Pleasure builds slowly, and like a classical pianist reaching the grand finale of the piece, Angelo moves his tongue faster and faster.
“Oh, God,” I moan, my nails raking his scalp. “Don’t stop.”
His teeth give it a little nip, and I squeal.
“Angelo.” He growls. “You say my name when you come. You understand me?”
Answering with a frustrated huff gets my clit another nip.
“Oww!”
“What was that?”
