I laugh, breathless and turned on as hell. “Then do something about it.”
He lifts me like I weigh nothing, carries me to the couch, and kneels in front of me. My shoes are gone in seconds. Then his hands are at the waistband of my leggings.
I lift my hips. “Take them off.”
He peels them down slowly, dragging my panties with them. I clamp my thighs together out of instinct.
But Marco doesn’t tolerate that.
He growls, low and dangerous. “Don’t ever hide this pussy from me.”
His hands force my legs open. He leans in and inhales.Inhales.
And it should be filthy, but it feels reverent.
“Fuck, you smell like sin,” he mutters.
And then his tongue is on me.
One long, slow lick from my entrance to my clit. My back arches. My hands shoot to his hair. I don’t just moan—Iwail.
He smiles against me, then gets to work.
His tongue flicks and swirls and circles my clit like he knows every nerve ending by heart. He slides his arm beneath my thighs, pinning me in place while he devours me. I’m squirming, gasping, panting his name like a prayer. The buildup is fast, brutal. I’m already shaking.
“I—I’m gonna come?—”
He doesn’t slow down. Doesn’t change pace. Just stays locked in, relentless.
I explode—legs trembling, hands fisting his hair, body wracked with waves of pleasure.
But he doesn’t stop.
He keeps licking, sucking, dragging every last aftershock out of me until I can’t breathe, can’t think.
A second orgasm crashes through me, leaving me boneless and sobbing his name.
Finally, mercifully, he stops. He kisses the inside of my thigh and pulls his arms free from under me. My legs drop, limp over the edge of the couch.
He kisses a path up my body—soft, sweet contrast to the filth he just did to me. When he reaches my stomach, he licks up his own cum.
My breath stutters. “You’re insane.”
He just smirks. “You taste better.”
He pauses near my mouth, gauging me. Some guys hesitate here—afraid it’ll be too much. But I grab the back of his neck and pull him in.
I want it all. I wantus.
We kiss, slow and deep and messy. I taste everything—him, me, coffee from this morning—and I want to drown in it.
His cock is hard again, pressing against my thigh.
Without a word, he lifts me and carries me toward the bedroom, kissing me with growing urgency. He lays me downand strips—shirt over his head, pants and boxers gone in seconds.
God, he’s beautiful.
Tan skin. Cut abs. Muscles that flex and ripple as he crawls on top of me. A body built for sin. His cock is heavy and hard between us, brushing my stomach as he leans in to kiss me again.
