Page 63 of Played
His tongue thrusts between my lips, tangling with mine, pulling, sucking, demanding. It’s a prelude to what he intends to do to my body, and I open wider for him ... just like I intend on doing with my body.
Sliding free the hand between my thighs and gently but firmly dislodging my hold on him, he bends, cups the backs of my thighs, and hoists me in the air. On a startled cry, I tightly wrap my arms around his neck and legs around his waist. Did he really just throw my ass up here in his arms like I’m a backpack instead of a full-grown woman?
Why yes. Yes, he did.
And it was hot as fuck.
I don’t wait for him to kiss me again. This time, I rake my teeth over his beard-covered jaw, then absorb the shudder that ripples through his big body, moan as it vibrates in my pussy that’s pressed against his abdomen. Lifting my head, I take his mouth, giving him my tongue and insisting on him returning the favor. And he does. Immediately. Even as he adroitly climbs the stairs, he tries to turn the tables on me, snatch control away from me. I almost let him. He starts to pull his arm back and, panicked, I reach down too. Because damn, if there’s one thingI’ve learned in the times he’s introduced his mouth, tongue, and teeth to me, it’s that surrendering feels so fucking good.
But trusting him not to drop me, I slide both hands up over his neck and the back of his head, scraping my nails over his scalp. Another shiver coursing through him is my reward, and as I double fist his short curls, the kiss turns nastier, greedier, rougher.
Hunger rises in me, and it’s relentless, coming at me, threatening to swallow me down in great big, ravenous gulps. I’m no match for it. So I stop fighting it and roll my hips, stroking my pussy over his hard stomach. Oh God. I’ma have to twist these leggings to wring them dry by the time I peel them off. They’resoaked. This man has me running like a damn faucet. And while I should feel a little embarrassed at how needy and hot I am for him, what’s the point? As soon as he puts his hand back on my pussy, he’s going to discover the truth for himself.
He has me in this state.
He has me on the verge of begging for his fingers, his mouth, his dick.
He has me feeling so alive it’s almost painful.
Tightening my grip on his hair, I tilt his head back and to the side, diving deeper between that mean mouth. I claim it, knowing it’s a temporal stake. But while it’s mine for the next hour or so, I’m branding myself on it, stamping my ownership so he feels it long after I’m gone.
Solomon shifts his hands from my thighs to my ass, squeezing. And it’s not tender; it’s hard, demanding, possessive. And it drags a whimper out of me, closely followed by another roll of my hips, another drag of my sex, another molten pulse of pleasure.
“Fuck this,” he growls against my lips. Seconds later, we reach the second floor, and he has my Converse, leggings, and panties off and tossed aside and my back propped against the wall.
I choke off a surprised cry as he drops to his knees, hauls my legs over his shoulders, spreading me wide. I squirm, afraid of falling. Only his strength holds me up, and I flatten one palm against the wall beside my waist and grab at his shoulder with the other one.
“What you scared for?” He nuzzles the place where my thigh and torso connect, making my breath catch in my throat. And when he places an open-mouthed kiss to the top of my mound, that same breath propels past my lips. “C’mon, ma. You were just throwing that pussy at me; keep that same energy. Ride this mouth.”
He slides his tongue over my clit, circling it, then closing his lips and pulling on it. I couldn’t hold in my scream even if I wanted to, not with pleasure slamming into me from all sides, from inside me and out. Both of my hands fly to his head, holding him in place, holding himright thereas I writhe against him, body rolling and bucking, doing just as he demanded.
Riding that mouth.
He hums, and the vibration against my sex is fuckingdivine.
I press my head hard against the wall, closing my eyes. But then I pop them open and bend my head, peering down my chest, stomach, and to the place between my legs that now has a new owner. An owner who’s exploring every part of his new territory and claiming it. I can’tnotlook as he kisses my pussy like he just took my mouth. Open. Wild. Nasty. So dirty that staring down at his tongue sliding through my folds, then flattening over my clit has my thighs shaking around his ears.
“Fuck, you taste good,” he mutters. I’ve never been one who gets off on praise, but hearing the words on his lips? I’ve discovered a new kink. Delight blooms inside me, right under the ecstasy, warming my skin. “I could fucking hate you right now for holding out on me, when you walking around here with pussy like this.”
That’s a first.
And later I might take the time to think about how a man telling me he could hate me while eating me out makes me feel. But at this moment, with his mouth opening wide over my sex and trying to damn near suck it all in at once, I’m a fucking fan.
“Please,” I beg, modesty and pride on the floor along with my leggings and panties. “Solomon, I need it. Please.”
“Need what, ma? Tell me and use your words.”
I grunt, my hips jerking as he shifts me on his shoulders, his long arms reaching up so his hands can cover my breasts. A long, raggedy moan escapes me as his talented and foul-ass fingers pinch my nipples through my sweatshirt, twisting them to the point where pleasure edges up against pain like long-lost friends.
“Adina, talk to me.”
Talk? Use words? What the hell are those?
He lifts his head, and my hands fist his short rough-silk curls tighter, trying to force him back to where he belongs.
Where he belongs.
Eventhinkingshit like that will have me messed up. I can’t risk that. Not even in the heat of the moment, with his mouth turning me silly.
