He tosses it to the side, and the cooling Texas air brushes against my practically bare chest, now left in only a lacy, red bra. As much as I’d told myself to be good, I hadn’t been naive either. I’d come prepared for this exact situation, wearing a matching bra and panties set. Given the fire simmering in those chocolate brown eyes of his, it’s clear I made the right decision.
“Do you even know how perfect you look right now?” he asks, his face one of pure awe as his hands immediately get to work on the button and zipper of my jeans. “Sorry, but I need you to sit on my face right fucking now. I need to taste you again.”
“What?” I ask, my eyes widening. “But you did that for me the other day. Shouldn’t it be your turn?”
“Do you not understand how badly I crave you?” he asks, his hungry eyes finding mine. “I’m never not going to want to taste that sweet pussy of yours,” he says, and the ache between my thighs intensifies. “Plus, the other day was about helping you feel better, and I had to hold back. This time, I get to truly feast like I want to,” he says, his voice growing more husky.
I don’t fight him, not that I want to. I’m just as eager as he seems to be. I lift my hips and twist as he free me from my jeans.
“As pretty as these are, they have to go too,” he says, somewhat regretfully, linking his fingers through the sides of my panties before sliding them down as well. “Now. Sit on my fucking face, Hollis. Don’t make me say it again.”
My pussy clenches at the demand, and I pull my bottom lip between my teeth. I’m just about to follow his orders when I reach up to remove the hat, but he shakes his head.
“No, keep it on.”
I smile, and he leans back against the blankets.
I’ve never done this before, so as I crawl up and over him, I move self consciously while lining my pussy just above his face.
“Like this?”
“Just like that.” His hands skirt over the outer part of my thigh, his fingers digging into my flesh before his tongue darts out. I gasp as it runs along my soaked core.
“Fuck you’re drenched for me, baby” he says, his hot breath against me only adding to the experience. “You taste so fucking good.”
“More,” I whimper.
Him calling me baby does things to me, as does the way he circles my clit with his tongue. I’m beyond needy, my body seemingly giving out, but thankfully I have the back truck window to lean on.
I’m a mess of loud pants and moans, especially when he wraps his lips around my bundle of nerves and sucks. He wasn't lying when he said he knows how to make a woman feel good, and I’m experiencing it all now as bolts of electricity course through me.
My entire body is humming, and every sweep of his tongue pulls me closer, bringing wave after wave of pleasure. My hips thrust toward his mouth, taking whatever he’s willing to give me.
Something builds inside me, and just when I’m sure this is the best it can get, I’m taken even higher. Even he can’t seem to get enough, his hands sliding from my thighs to my ass as he pulls me down, even closer.
My head falls back as a powerful orgasm rips through me. One that I can feel all the way from my head down to the tip of my toes, and I fully surrender myself to it and let out a loud, guttural cry. Fletcher continues to work me through it, coaxing out every last bit of pleasure.
My body finally relaxes, and I’m ready to collapse. Luckily, I remember that I’m practically sitting on him, and use my last bit of strength to lift my leg and slide down to lie next to him.
He pulls me close, and I curl into his side. “So, that good huh?” he asks, his voice playful, though I can tell he’s feeling pretty full of himself.
“Don’t get too cocky,” I warn, my voice still breathy.
“Why?” he asks, turning to face me while dragging his fingers slowly down my arm.
I try not to get distracted, especially as his fingers continue their trail from my shoulder, toward my collarbone, and down to my bra-covered chest.
That familiar ache forms all over again between my legs. God, how does he do this? How do I already need him again this badly?
“What if I like a man with a little humility?” I suggest, my eyes following his ghost-like touch as I press my thighs together to soothe the building pressure.
“I’m starting to suspect I just might know what you like and want more than you do. And you like it when I speak the truth, even when you pretend not to,” he states, his tone as cocky as ever, and given his most recent performance, I think he deserves to be.
“Maybe we should test that theory and see if you really do know what I want,” I whisper.
“You know, you shouldn’t say things you might regret...”
“Well, if you know me so well, you should also know I have no plans to regret anything that happens tonight. So come on, Fletch. Show me,” I push, and given the fire burning in those eyes of his, I have a feeling he’s going to do just that.
