Page 87 of Endgame
“Bastard.” She seethes, but her nails sink into my knee and her skin prickles. I really am doing a terrible job of torturing her. “Hate you. Hate. You.”
“You’re clean here.” Ignoring the ache at the base of my cock, I manhandle Aurora, dragging her off me and spinning her until her ass is right in front of me. “You said you were sore. Must be swollen. I want to see for myself.”
“I lied. I lied.” Her murmurs are followed by quivering legs. She whimpers the moment I bunch her dress up her back. “I swear. I lied. I’m not swollen, at all. I’m sorry.”
One tug and her black lace panties are ripped off her body. She didn’t lie. She is swollen and wet.
Chair out of the way, I drop on my knees behind her, groaning at her sweet scent.
I spread her legs before running two fingers over her wet inner thighs.
“You’re soaked.” Her pink pussy is begging to be eaten out. “Fucking dripping, Aurora.”
My mouth waters for a taste.
Patience.
“I’m not.” The tears in her voice are such a turn-on. “I peed.”
I have my hands on her hips, sinking my teeth into one of her supple ass cheeks. When her screams turn to gasps, I lower my head, licking the wet trail of her arousal on one thigh, then the other.
“Liar.”
“Stop,” she moans. “Stop.”
“Doesn’t”—lick—“taste like pee to me.”
“I-I will pee on you.” She fidgets, clenching her thighs. Trying and failing to control the situation. “I swear.”
“Excuse me if I have a hard time believing a shoplifter.”
I could get lost in her hips for days. Round and firm. Soft and inviting. I’m fucking taking them. Tilting them up. Spanking her to get her to calm down.
Blowing air on her naked sex.
“Fuck you.”
“Filthy fucking prisoner.” My fingers bruise her as I pull her to me.
The kiss I press to her pussy is a warning. The calm before the storm.
Before I find her clit.
My lips wrap around it, my teeth grazing the sensitive flesh, sucking and biting.
“No,” she howls, yet her muscles flex, her body unsure whether to flee or give in to this. “Stop. Stop.”
“As you wish.” Swiftly, I release her, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.
“What?” Her head whips back to glower at me as I move to return to my chair. “Everett?”
The round O shape of her lips is a goddamn invitation. A reminder of last night, when she wrapped them around my cock.
Next time I slide between them, I won’t be there to comfort her. I’ll be fucking her pretty mouth.
My mouth.
I crook my finger in acome-heregesture.
