“More,” I whimpered.
His fingers deftly slid under my panties. He groaned in pleasure.
“Fuck, you’re wet.” He slid his fingers up and down, teasing me for what felt like an eternity.
“I need more,” I whispered.
“I’ll give you anything you want.”
I moaned as his fingers pushing into me, slowly, carefully, allowing me to accommodate around him until I felt exquisitely full.
“Don’t stop,” I moaned quietly. “Please don’t stop.”
He kept his fingers buried inside me, staying still. I stared into his eyes, hungry, begging, dying for more, until I couldn’t take it any longer. I pulled him down, capturing his lips. I was greedy, wanton, wanting every bit of him, my hips rocking involuntarily against his hand.
He broke the kiss.
“I need to taste you,” he said.
His fingers slipped out of me. It felt like it was over before we had even started.
“I want you, Riot,” I said.
“You’ll get me,” he promised.
His hands wrapped around my waist, hoisting me up. I squeaked as he lifted me on top of the low shelf, sitting me down.
“You’re going to get us in so much trouble,” I whispered.
He spread my legs, hooked his fingers under the elastic of my panties, and tugged them off.
“I’ll protect you,” he said.
The next thing I knew my skirt was around my hips, and his head was between my legs.
The first stroke of his tongue felt like heaven, sending a jolt of pleasure through my body. Then another. Then more. I let my head fall backwards, eyes squeezed shut, breathing hard.
He ran his tongue all over me, tasting and sucking, driving me wild. The pleasure mounted, higher and higher, until it was almost painful, until I was squirming and writhing, needy and desperate.
He pushed two fingers back inside me and sucked hard on my clit. My eyes flew open as I was sent over the edge, mouth open in a silent cry. My thighs trembled and my fists clenched as he worked me through it, never ceasing his thrusts and licks.
After long moments, I finally came back down to earth, panting heavily. My heart raced and my insides sang with pleasure, but my desires were not yet satisfied.
I wanted more.
But I wanted to be the one giving it.
I pushed myself off the low shelf, Riot guiding me down with his hands around my waist.
“Are you—”
Before he could finish his sentence, I was on my knees. I looked up at him. Riot’s eyes were near black, pupils blown wide open. Without breaking eye contact I went for the button of his pants.
“You don’t have to,” he said.
“I want to.”
I unleashed him from his tight jeans, pulling him out. He was just as beautiful, just as thick and perfect, as I remembered from last time. I wrapped my hand around the base of him.
