His gaze darts fast across her face, falls down her body.
A cry catches in her throat. “That it? You teasin’ me, Andrew?”
His teeth grind, sweat runnin' a line down the edge of his jaw.
His shoulders sink, hands hangin' at his sides.
The smirk's long gone, and he doesn't say another word.
She takes his silence for confession.
He exhales, finally giving into her.
Then just drops to his knees.
And Andrew Harding on his knees?
An image you get tattooed on your thigh.
She’s been dreamin’ about him since August. Since the first time she’d seen him sing. Now hismouth, his strut, his stage-god ego? All down on his knees, meltedunder her cunt.
“Yeah,” she breathes, smug as hell, eyes glitterin’ under garage light. “That’s what I thought.”
Talia was born for shit like this.
She ain’t shy. She’s Staten. That’s different.
She slides her hand up the back of his neck, fingers in his hair, then lifts her leg, boot plantin’ on the bumper of his car. Her skirt rides up—no panties, no shame. Her heavy folds hover inches from his face, and the scent of her cunt floats up to her nose. She's been wet and swollen all night from thinkin’ about bein’ licked by the myth, the man, the mouth all goddamn night.
She stays there, hoverin’, lettin’ him look at her, smell her, breatheher in.
So he can taste the heat of her without touchin’.
He stares, hypnotized, his breath turnin’ ragged.
His throat bobs, his whole body’s holdin’ the line, and losin’.
His hand lifts up between her thighs until two fingers are swipin’ through her folds, collectin’ the wet, soakin’ ‘em.
Then he brings his fingers to his mouth, slips them inside, tasting how she melts on his tongue with ahum.
When he drags them back out, slow and filthy, his teeth scrape them clean, taking the rest of her mess into his mouth.
The sight of it—eyes hooded, lips lazy—drops heat straight between her legs. Her thighs tremble, her cunt squeezes as if it felt his mouth too.
Then he tips his head back. Opens his mouth.
Breath hot and beggin’ for it.
Talia’s smirk crawls up from her clit and lands right onto her lips.
She brushes down, rollin’ her hips once, and her folds drag wet across his tongue. He’s holdin’ himself back, but he doesn’t want to. Sheknowsit.Feelsit. The way his neck trembles in her hand. The way his fuckin’ fingers twitch ‘cause he’s dyin’ to grab her.
Then her whole cunt dips into his hot mouth. A slow, wet drag from clit to soaked opening. Another moan crawls up from his chest, and his lips close around her, sucks her arousal right off her folds.
“Ohh fuck,” she moans with a shudder, head tossed back, one hand slammin’ to the trunk for balance. She can’t take it anymore, and yanks his hair, tiltin’ his head back. “Say it, baby, say I’m yours, say I’m all you think about.”
But his eyes are lowered, lids heavy, starin’ at her cunt, like he's obsessed.
