Page 45 of Savage in the Sweets
His lips close over my breasts, his tongue gently teasing my nipple before he gives a gentle suck.
My fingers dig into his shoulders, wanting desperately for him to continue but also wanting more.
He takes my other breasts into his mouth, affording it the same treatment until I can barely stand the anticipation, and I press firmly down on his shoulders.
“This isn’t a sprint to the finish line,” Colin says with a chuckle.
“Maybe not for you, but it’s been almost a year for me.”
The more I rush him, the more languid his kisses become. I can barely think straight. All I want is that wicked mouth of his to reward me for my patience.
And it appears he’s not beneath torture.
His tongue dips into my belly button as he pushes my legs up and onto his broad shoulders.
I press my head back against the armrest, my heart racing madly as bliss begins to bloom.
Finally, after a week of torment—fuck—a year of torment, I’m going to get sweet release.
He rips the fruity treat that was masquerading as underwear from my sex and rasps out, “I’ll save this for later,” setting it on the coffee table.
His fingers trace up my seam, and I hear him mutter, “Holy fuck,” under his breath.
“Please,” I plead, my voice shaking.
“You’re so fucking perfect,” he says, then brings his tongue to my entrance, giving a long lick upward.
Pleasure courses through my body and I give a small ‘yelp’ as my eyes roll to the back of my head.
I’m so fucking glad I didn’t settle for robo-tongue.
His lips are firm and demanding while his tongue is soft, a perfect good cop, bad cop combination that sends my body escalating toward release.
God, the last thing I want to do is completely lose myself moments after we start, but I’m literally so close to spilling over the edge that my legs are already shaking against his cheeks.
The fact that he’s moaning in elation doesn’t help matters. All I need is just a few well-placed strokes…
He pulls his mouth away, looking up at me with mischievous eyes.
“Oh, my God—don’t stop!”
“I want you to beg me, my Candy Queen,” he says, looking down at my sex with lust-filled eyes.
Beg him? What an arrogant asshole.
And yet… “Please, oh God—I need this.”
“Need what?”
“I need to lick me.”
“Be more specific.”
“I hate you!”
“I know that.”
“Please, just fucking eat my pussy.”
