A little yelp is her response to that, but I can’t help but notice her arousal begins to escape her. Interesting.
Before she protests any further, I launch my assault on her with my tongue that takes in the taste of her whole length before circling her clit.
“Shit! Yes!” she calls, her hands already in my hair.
I circle and flick against her clit before drawing it into my mouth, but before she goes over the edge, I withdraw, but only as far as her core that I gently probe and lap. She tastes fucking divine, and I can’t ever see me getting enough of her.
The sensation of her rocking her hips against me as she gets closer to release, along with her moans and breathy gasps drive me closer to release myself. I return my mouth to her clit and my fingers to their former position of pumping in and out of her, but this time I reach further inside until I find that special place that sends her wild.
“Fuck! Dec! Don’t you dare fucking stop. I’m going to come.”
If I wasn’t completely absorbed in Anita and her pleasure, I’d laugh at her demands and threatening words, but I am, so continue to drive her closer to the edge of her climax. With my fingers rubbing against her G-spot and my mouth now sucking on her clit, she has nowhere else to go.
On a garbled cry, she comes and as I had said, she calls my name at the top of her voice. Easing her down from her heightened state, I reach up to take her hands that are still in my hair in mine and gently lapped against her core, savouring every last drop of her sweet nectar, my sweet nectar.
Anita
It has been almost a week since Dec came home with Mase and took me back to his place and things are going well between us. I stayed with him all night, but I couldn’t really class it as a sleepover because I don’t think I got a single wink of sleep that night. The man is an animal, not that I consider that an insult.
I am mixing a pancake batter in Dec’s kitchen as I spent last night here too, and now it is breakfast time, well, lunch, but we will be eating breakfast. I allow myself a little chuckle when I remember a few days ago when Dec walked into the kitchen at the club and found me making a batch of blueberry and white chocolate muffins. He stood behind me for a little while and then approached me, telling me that my arse jiggled in a very sexy way when mixing. I flush when I recall that he went on to lift my skirt up, remove my pants and shag me over the countertop about seven seconds before my dad walked in. That was close, maybe too close when I consider that my brothers nor parents know about me and Dec. Liv knows and Mase, but nobody else. My dad is beginning to look suspicious about who my new bloke is, but so far, beyond knowing I am seeing someone, he hasn’t pieced any more than that together.
“I swear you only mix things to turn me on.”
I turn and see a very sexy Dec sauntering towards me in just a pair of black boxers with his bed head, twinkling eyes and a bit of regrowth across his face making him look like a bloody male model.
With a giggle as he comes up behind me and kisses my neck, I correct him. “No. I mix things for a living, and right now, I am mixing to make us pancakes.”
The kisses move across my shoulder, then back up my neck until Dec is tracing a path along my jaw before finding my ear.
“Doesn’t mean it doesn’t turn me on.” He presses his body into mine and I can feel just how turned on he is.
“I really need to walk this week,” I tell him deadpan, but I do, unlike last week after our all-nighter that ran into the next day leaving me sore and struggling to walk normally.
He laughs against my ear and the sound of it along with the vibration of the sound against my skin makes me reconsider the need for mobility.
“Shame,” he mutters before landing a single kiss to my cheek. “I am jumping in the shower and then we’ll eat before I drop you home.”
I turn and watch him walk away, the muscles in his back rippling and his glorious arse daring me not to follow him and then his words register, before I drop you home. He picked me up from a function we catered, meaning my car is at home, which also means my parents or brothers may see him dropping me home.
Dec is devouring his plate full of pancakes that are loaded with syrup and a variety of fruit.
“These might be the best pancakes I have ever eaten,” he says between mouthfuls.
I smile across at him. “It’s kind of my job, to be able to cook.”
He shakes his head. “But this is so much more than being able to cook, Cupcake.”
Before I can respond, not that I know how to respond beyond a thank you, Dec begins to laugh.
“What?”
“Have you ever had a pancake made for you by Liv?”
I shake my head. “Should I have?”
He shrugs. “Just be warned that if the opportunity arises, don’t. I did, once, only once, and I reckon you could tile a roof with them.”
I laugh. “That bad?”
