Even so, each time I move her up a level, like she’s on the cusp of orgasm, I press against that barrier. I can’t break it. There will be hell to pay. If Adam or someone claims her anddoes not get that cherry, the man who took it will end up buried in the marsh up the road from the club.
I focus back on her clit, and her high whine begins again.
Fuck. “Here.” I remove my hand and take her by the waist. “Sit up here.”
“Are you going to fuck me?”
“I don’t know.” I lift her onto the bar. “But spread your knees.”
Her breathing is coming fast. “What are you going to do?”
I grasp her knees. “I want to hear you scream.” Maybe that will be good enough for her, and she won’t keep asking for more. I’ll make it hardcore. I’ll hit her with everything safe.
I rub her clit like I did on the stage, taking her up each level. She breathes heavy and long, her head falling back.
The mirror behind her on the bar shows me her ass on the counter. Everything about her is hot.
When her cries become jagged, I slow down, making her moan. “Merrick … please.”
“You’ll be coming. Don’t you worry.”
I lower my head, sliding my tongue along that silky smooth pussy.
“Oh, shit!” she cries.
I look up at her, her skin taking on all the colors of the neon behind me. She’s gorgeous, smooth, and all mine.
I don’t care that I can’t fuck her. I’m going to do pretty much every other goddamn thing on the planet.
And I am going to take my time.
CHAPTER 23
MARIETTA
Merrick is killing me. His tongue, his lips, his hands circling my thighs.
I brace myself on the counter in front of the mirrors, surrounded by bottles and neon light. I look down, and Merrick’s dark hair fills the space between my legs.
No one has ever done this to me before, obviously, and my entire body quivers as he licks me. Then he sucks part of me into his mouth, and I literally see stars.
I gasp, clutching the edge of the wood ledge. I’m wearing nothing but my boots, and those dangle down his back, covering the Wild Hair logo of skull and roses.
I’m floating. Pleasure rises with every move he makes, racing between my clit and both nipples in an electric jolt. I squeeze my eyes closed, relishing every delicious move he makes. His tongue swirls and dives, then he sucks again.
I had no idea there was so much more than what we did before. Of course, after my video watching with Celia, I understood a lot more of what was possible.
I saw this happen. But it’s wild, like every time he sucks, a million strings are being pulled. To my nipples, to my belly, to my head. Even my toes are curling inside the boots.
Merrick’s tongue is a full-body experience.
I want to hold out, to get him to do the whole thing, to free me from this dumb social construct of virginity that is taking over the whole patriarchy of the club and making them feral.
But then all the strings yank at once, and waves pulse through me. I’m totally lost, my vision blurring. Every cell in my body is involved. I can scarcely feel normal things, like the counter or Merrick’s hair or even where his mouth does its work.
I’m something else. One with the universe. Something. Everything is pleasure and arcing joy. I’m so light, like I’m nothing.
As I start to come down, the feeling recedes, and I can’t bear it. Tears come, then sobs. And everything is solid again. The scratch of Merrick’s scruffy beard, the rough surface of the wood, the weight of the boots.
