Page 27 of A Murderous Crow
“Relax,” I told her, and took a large, old-fashioned, antique key from the inside of my breast pocket and set it on the table beside where I’d set my glass.
“It’s the privacy I paid for, not a trap,” I told her gently.
“What do you want from me?” she asked. I rose from my place, letting the napkin fall from my lap to the floor. I held out my hand, indicating she should rise as well, and she did, standing slowly as I moved deftly between her and her chair. She looked up at me, fearful, as I backed her against the edge of the table.
I brought my lips to hover just before hers and whispered against them, “Relax, I’m not going to hurt you.” I was going to tell her to close her eyes, but as luck would have it, I didn’t needto. They slid shut of their own volition as her breathing became shallow.
I intentionally stole her breath, touching my lips to hers in a light, chaste kiss, relishing how her body shook and shuddered as an ensuing sigh escaped her chest and brushed my lips with warmth.
I took advantage of that sigh, wrapping a hand tight in the back of her hair. My other hand found her waist, as I stepped into her, trapping her between my body and the edge of the empty table as I strengthened the kiss into something deeper, stronger. A kiss that broke down walls and left her breathless, a whimper of protest humming along my tongue as I passed it between her teeth and stroked along hers, her mouth sweet and tasting of how she smelled. Ripe and full-bodied, like the personification of the sun itself.
Her hands pressed against my chest, briefly, but then their touch lightened, and her initial resistance gave way into the sweetest supplication.
It was about that time I let my hand drift down her back, releasing her tangle of curls to join the other at her waist. I continued to kiss her breathless, as I began to inch the material of her short skirt up her legs until it was in such a way that I could step up my assault on her senses.
I tore my mouth from hers and picked her up, setting her ass on the edge of the table and ordering her, “Lie back.” I pressed my palm between her small, but pert tits.
Her blue eyes widened in something like fear, but she obeyed beautifully, lying back with some trepidation.
I skated my hands from her knees, up the outsides of her thighs, and stepped in closer between them.
She sucked in a sharp breath as I tugged at the waistband of her panties and resisted, momentarily, by not lifting her hips as was expected. I gave her a warning look with a slight cocking ofmy head and a raised eyebrow. She complied, looking as though her heart was in her throat, bracing her arms against the table, and obediently lifting her hips for me. I whisked her panties down her legs, stepping back and working first one side over her spike heels she wore, then the other.
I pulled up her chair and took a seat, scooting in and keeping her knees apart with my shoulders.
“Relax, Bright Eyes, and put your knees here.” I draped one over my shoulder, then the other.
She lay back against the table, pressing her hands over her heart, which no doubt thundered in her chest. I took a sip of my bourbon, watching her as her chest heaved with panicked breaths and she squeezed her eyes shut.
She had a beautiful little pussy that was glistening at the slit, and I could only imagine how much sheached.
I touched her with a light index finger, gathering the wet from her entrance, slicking it over her clit, and labia, watching that little kernel of nerves jump and begin to engorge itself on her desire to be fucked.
She could deny me with her voice all she wanted, but her body positively screamed otherwise.
I pulled her hips closer to the edge of the table and, with no preamble, plunged my tongue into her wet and waiting cunt, tasting her, teasing at her opening, and thrusting as far as I could inside her.
She tasted remarkable, with notes of honey and musk – nothing overpowering – quite delicate in fact. She tasted clean and pure, and I fucking loved it.
I dragged my tongue from her opening, up her slit, and latched onto her delicate pearl of a clit, sucking and tasting, rolling it around with the tip of my tongue, as she jumped beneath me and my hands tightened on her hips, a silent warning to hold still.
She gasped and covered her mouth with both her hands, and I took it as a personal challenge to see how vocal I could make her. See how far I could push her until she forgot herself and howled her pleasure for me.
I started by slipping my middle finger into her wetness, questing around at the roof of her twat for that slightly ridged patch of pleasure center, just a couple of inches inside her. I found it and curled my finger against it, stroking with the pad against her in a come-hither motion to drive her wild.
I’d given up on teasing her clit in my quest to find it, and I held off on tormenting it further for a bit more, until a gagged little cry came from behind her hands, and I could feel her wet little pussy tighten around my invading finger. It was enough that I had to force my index finger into her alongside its mate.
Her hands flew off her mouth and tangled in the linens at her hips, as she held on. I began my two-pronged attack, teasing her G-spot with my fingers, and swirling my tongue around her clit, until her back arched, and her voice slid from between her lips in a begging whine that rose and fell with her frantic breaths, higher with her exhale, deeper with her panting inhale. It was a harmony of profound pleasure that I lost myself in as I devoted myself fully to her exquisite torment.
I would not relent until she came completely undone, and I was not disappointed. She hit her peak, and wailed, a long peal of siren’s song and the sweetest music to my ears as her back arched off the table, and her knees quaked where they lay over my back. Her pussy clenched and released my fingers in a rapid staccato as I used my free arm to hold her down, barring her hips and pressing her into the table as I thrust my fingers now three at a time in her, in and out, prolonging her orgasm and fucking her tight little hole.
I watched her writhe beneath me, watched her come completely undone, and relished the feel of her hands wrappingaround my wrist in her futile attempt to pull my hand from her drenched pussy as I worked her mercilessly.
She shuddered, gasped, and let out a little “oh!” of defeat, and I knew she’d had enough.
I stood in front of her, looking down on her, I fully admit, smug as hell. She cracked her eyelids and looked up at me as I sucked my fingers clean, and stroked her leg. The praise left my lips…
“That’s a good girl, Bright Eyes. That’s a good girl.”
