“Let’s get you naked,” I say, entering the kitchen. “I’m assuming you’re already wet for me.”
“You would assume right. I’ve had a stressful evening, and I need to get off, please.”
I spin her around and pull her arms over her head. “You have come to the right place.” I press a hasty kiss to her lips before I yank her shirt over her head. “Is there anything you want to talk about?”
“Yeah … but no.” She sighs, playing with my hair as I remove her pants and panties. “Just being here helps.”
My hands stall for a moment as that hits me.Being here helps. My heart thunders as I stand again and smile at her. Her cheeks blush, but she doesn’t say anything. I don’t mention it either. She said it. I heard it. That’s enough.
I reach around her, pressing her chest to mine, and unfasten her bra. As I step back, it falls to the floor, and my handsimmediately go to her tits. The feel of them in my palms—full, heavy, and perfectly shaped—short-circuits my brain. If I didn’t want to taste her so much and give her the release she needs, I’d spend an hour on them alone.
Instead, I grip her by the waist and sit her on the stone countertop. “Lie back.”
She puts her elbows down and then reclines until she’s flat against the quartz. “I love how I can come here and order sexual favors à la carte.”
“Babe, I offer a delivery service if it’s more convenient.”
She giggles as I help her scoot her juicy ass to the edge.
“Open up for me,” I say, guiding her knees up and out. “There you go.”
I love to play with her, build her up until she’s ready to scream. Show her that she’s worth all the time and energy in the world. But tonight, she explicitly told me she needed this to help with stress, and if she needs to come, I will oblige.
“You are beautiful,” I say, grazing my finger up her slit. She trembles from the contact. “Your pussy is soaked. Do you know how hard that makes me?”
Her head falls to the side, and her eyes flutter closed as I gently slide my finger through her folds.
“Do you want me to be gentle?” I ask, going a bit deep between her lips. “Or are you wanting it hard? Tell me how to make you happy.”
“I love it like this,” she says, softly. “But this time, I just need to come fast and hard. I need the relief.”
“Say less.”
I dip one, then two fingers into her body. She groans, writhing against my hand as I push deeper into her flesh. “That’s exactly what I need.”
“That’s two fingers. Do you want another one?”
“Yes,” she hisses, her lashes splayed on her cheeks as if she’s relishing my touch.
I add a third, stroking them in and out until I find an easy rhythm she enjoys. She sucks in a breath, her lips forming anoas she breathes, and exhales it in a sexy rush that I can feel in my cock.
She’s so wet, so hot—ready for my dick. But if she wants to come on my face, then so be it.
It’s not like it’s a hardship to lick her pussy dry.
“Remember,” I say, blowing across her swollen clit. “I want to hear you.”
“Okay,” she whispers.
I drag my tongue along her seam, flicking the tip of it against her bud. She moans as her back comes off the counter and arches toward my face. Her body is so responsive. She’s so receptive to me.
“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” I say, grinding my teeth together to keep from coming in my pants. “My God, Gianna. Seeing you spread out like this in my kitchen, just for me …”
I pick up the pace with my fingers, working her hole harder. She rocks against me, pushing harder against my hand, desperate for the relief she seeks.
I spread her pussy open with my free hand and drag my tongue across her clit. She screams, thrashing against the counter as I lick her. Her hand flies to the side, knocking over a vase holding a million Sharpies. They fly across the counter and roll to the floor in a cascade of color.
“Fuck, Drake!” she yells, the word capped by a cry over the marker waterfall. “Do that.Please.”
