Page 15 of Feastin' with Fire
My mouth goes dry. "You know what I mean."
He steps closer, crowding me against the counter. "Say it."
I clench my fists at my sides, embarrassment and arousal warring within me. "I'm ashamed, but... I'm wet. For you."
Something snaps in his expression. He scoops me up like I weigh nothing, strong arms lifting me with ease. Before I can process what's happening, he's carrying me to the living room, laying me on the couch, spreading my legs wide with his broad hands.
"Is this okay?" he asks, his blue eyes dark with desire but still seeking permission. "Because right now, I need to taste you."
I nod frantically, unable to believe this is happening. No man has ever asked for my consent before. No man has ever handled me with such ease, making me feel delicate rather than big. I should be self-conscious about how wet I am. My panties are soaked through, but this man battles infernos for a living. How could a little moisture frighten him?
He doesn't even bother removing my underwear. He just pulls the fabric to the side with one finger, exposing my dripping pussy to his hungry gaze. He pushes my shirt—his shirt—up just enough to see my stomach, then bends down and buries his face between my thighs.
The first stroke of his tongue nearly makes me come right there. He's not gentle. He devours me like a starving man at a feast, broad tongue lapping at my folds, circling my clit with devastating precision.
"Oh my god," I gasp, my head falling back against the cushions. "Jimmy!"
He growls against my flesh, the vibration sending shockwaves through me. His large hands grip my inner thighs, spreading me wider, holding me open for him. I grab the hem of the t-shirt and pull it higher, needing to see him, to watch what he's doing to me.
The sight nearly undoes me. His handsome face is buried between my legs, my juices glistening in his beard, his eyes half-closed in concentration. He doesn't miss a single spot, his tongue running the length of my slit, lapping hungrily at my entrance, then twirling around my clit until I'm gasping for air.
My toes curl as pleasure builds. I've never been this responsive, this close to the edge so quickly. But everything about this man—his strength, his intensity, his focus—drives me wild. He doesn't just eat pussy; he worships it, like he's performing a sacred task rather than a sexual act.
Just as I'm about to reach climax, he pulls back, his lips and chin slick with my juices.
"You taste fucking incredible," he says, his voice even deeper than usual. "The only reason I'm stopping is because I need to be inside you. Now."
The desperation in his tone sends another flood of wetness between my legs. I lean forward, reaching for his belt, fingers fumbling in my eagerness. He helps me, and the heavy leather belt hits the floor with a thud that seems to punctuate the moment. No turning back now.
He unfastens his jeans and pushes them down along with his briefs. His cock springs free, and I gasp at the size of him. He's huge. Thick and long and already leaking at the tip. Before he can even step out of his pants, I wrap my hand around him, marveling at how my fingers can't fully close around his girth.
"Lily," he groans as I guide him to my lips, taking him into my mouth without hesitation.
I've never been particularly enthusiastic about this act before, but with Jimmy, I can't seem to get enough. I bob my head, taking him deeper with each thrust, gagging slightly when he hits the back of my throat but pushing through it. He's worth the discomfort. Worth everything.
He grunts each time I deepthroat him, his hands coming to rest gently on my head, not pushing, just holding. When I run my tongue along the sensitive underside of his cock, he makes a sound that's almost pained, his hips jerking involuntarily.
"Fuck, Lily, stop," he says after a few minutes.
I pull back immediately, concerned. "Did I hurt you? My bandages—"
"You were perfect," he assures me, chest heaving. "Too perfect. If you keep going, I'm going to finish in your mouth, and that would be a problem because I haven't fucked you yet."
I grin up at him, feeling bold in a way I never have before. "That would be a very significant problem," I agree, leaning back andspreading my legs wide in invitation. "So maybe you should do something about it."
His eyes darken as he looks down at me, sprawled on his couch, his shirt rucked up to my waist, legs open, pussy exposed and glistening with want. For a moment, he just stares, like he's memorizing the sight.
"You are so fucking beautiful," he says.
"Please, Jimmy," I whisper, beyond caring how desperate I sound. "I need you inside me."
Chapter 9 - Jimmy
Is this a dream? Am I hallucinating from smoke inhalation during a rescue? Because there's no way in hell I'm about to fuck the most beautiful woman I've seen in years—a woman who's currently spread out on my couch, begging for my cock.
"Please, Jimmy," Lily whispers again, her pussy glistening with need. "I need you inside me."
I move between her thighs, positioning myself at her entrance. I don't even need to guide my cock. Her pussy is so wet that when I press forward, I slide in easily. The sensation nearly buckles my knees.
