Page 82 of Forecheck
Our lips frantically clashed as we pawed at each other’s clothes. My bra flew in one direction, his tux jacket in another. Growing impatient with the buttons on his shirt, I ripped open the placket with one swift tug and pushed it off his shoulders.
“Greedy,” he said, a smug smile playing on his lips as he stood back to unzip and kick off his pants.
“For you? Always.”
In response, he grabbed my foot and pressed a kiss to the sole before working his way up my leg. When he reached my center, still covered by my panties, he pressed a kiss to my clit through the fabric. I whined in response, wanting his mouth on my skin. But instead of taking them off, he simply pushed them to the side to give me what I wanted—what he wanted. As he spread my pussy open with two fingers, I let my knees fall wide, giving him better access, squirming impatiently.
“You know, this”—he trailed a finger across my sensitive flesh—“is the same shade your cheeks turn when you blush. I love that blush. Almost as much as I love this pussy.” He flicked the tip of his tongue against my clit, and I gasped. “How you taste. How fucking warm and wet you are when I’m inside you. How perfectly we fit.”
“W-why?” I choked out.
“Because, Berk. When you blush? It’s the only time I know exactly what’s going on in that beautiful mind of yours.”
“You wanna know what’s going on in it right now?”
“Of course.”
“I’m thinking,” I said, rising onto my elbows to glare down at him, “that my hot as fuck boyfriend should stop talking and put his mouth on me before I scream for reasons other than his incredible tongue.”
He huffed out a laugh, his warm breath hitting my clit, raising goosebumps over my entire body. I wanted him to do it again, to lick me and blow on me, to tease me and edge me before making me come hard enough to see stars.
And I knew he’d do it, too. If I asked, he’d do anything.
“Demanding, aren’t we?”
“Please, baby.”
He pulled my panties down my legs and stood at the foot of the bed, sliding his boxers off. Having his eyes on my bodywas almost as good as his hands. I’d never felt sexier or more powerful than when he looked at me like this—like he couldn’t believe he got to be here with me. Like I was the most perfect thing he’d ever seen.
He pressed a knee onto the bed, ready to move over me again, but I halted him.
“Wait, don’t move.”
“But you just said—”
“I know what I said. Just…let me look at you. Do you have any idea how perfect you are?” I looked my fill, running my eyes over the perfectly shaped muscles of his chest, stomach, arms and thighs, before resting on that gorgeous cock, primed for me. “I don’t just mean physically. I mean all of it. You are perfection. And you know what?”
“What?”
“You aremine, Brent Jean. Do you understand?”
“I’ll never be anyone else’s,” he promised.
“Good boy,” I said. “Now get over here. I need you.”
“What happened to putting my mouth on you?”
With a smirk, I dropped my hand to my pussy, fingers coming away drenched.
“I’m far past needing foreplay.”
Brent brought my fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean, grinning wickedly as he sank to his knees between my thighs and notched his cock at my entrance, coating his tip in my arousal and spreading it down the shaft.
“If you’re sure…”
I nodded emphatically, my moan turning into a groan of frustration when he pushed only as far as his head and stilled.
“Brent!”
