“Shit, baby, you taste even better than I imagined you would,” I say as I lick them one last time, not wanting to miss a single drop.
She giggles. “Why is that so hot?”
“Because I’m a Viking?” I tease.
“A Viking with a monster dick,” she scoffs.
I press up against her, and she releases a shaky breath.
“I think we should end our experiment,” she says.
I freeze, looking at her as she sits up on my lap.
She smiles. “Just kidding, let’s have one more make-out session tonight. Just…to make sure,” she says.
I laugh. “I mean, if it’s for scientific purposes, then I think we have to.”
“Oh, it’s for science, alright,” she agrees as she leans up and kisses me.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Jocelyn
Hutch’s lips press to mine, and then his tongue traces them. I arch my neck, and his lips and tongue follow the line down to my collarbone before he plants wet kisses on the exposed tops of my breasts.
“Bring them up here,” he demands, which is so unlike him that it surprises me. Damn, sexy times bring out the inner Viking in my cinnamon roll bestie.
I kneel on the sofa with a leg on either side of him. He places his hands under my breast and pushes them up until my hardened nipples are aligned with his mouth. Then he sucks on them through the fabric of my dress.
A primal sound releases from my throat, and I lurch forward, trying to grind against his lower abdomen like a horny teenager.
Hutch drops a hand and fidgets with the material of my dress until he is able to reach between us. He runs a finger back and forth against the drenched cotton between my legs. I’d be embarrassed about how wet I am if I weren’t so desperate for him to bring me to orgasm again.
I jerk against his fingers.
“Patience. I want to take my time,” he says as he continues to stroke me.
I reach between us, trying to grasp him again, and he bats my hand away and then goes back to massaging the breast he’s not suckling with his one free hand.
“This time, we’re doing it differently,” he urges.
“You’re really bossy,” I protest.
He laughs, and then his teeth graze my nipple, and I practically come again.
“I can be bossy,” he counters.
“Clearly,” I reply as I continue to press against where his fingers are doing magical things without even touching my skin.
He pushes my panties to one side. They are so embarrassingly wet that they basically stay there. Then he squirms and uses one hand to pull his pants a little so only the fabric of his underwear separates us. I look down and see the head of his cock poking up from the waistband. It takes every ounce of my restraint not to bend down and lick it.
“Eyes up here,” he urges, pressing a single finger under my chin and pushing upward. Our gazes lock, and he uses his hands on my hips to guide me over him, settling my weight so my soaking slit lines up with his erection that’s still covered by his underwear.
“There, now make yourself come,” he demands. His hands go back to my breasts, allowing me to move at my own pace. I press down, and I feel my folds part around his length. Holy shit! That’s hot as fuck, but also, he’s enormous. I’m not sure I can have sex with him. How would that work?
“Eyes here,” he says again, and we lock gazes as I start to move. Up and down, harder and then softer, I keep moving until I find the rhythm I need.
“Almost there,” I breathe. I move a little too fast, a little too hard, and my wet and swollen clit rubs the head of his cock that’s now fully poking out of the fabric.
