She undoes my belt, then frees me of my pants and boxers in one motion. My cock springs free, bobbing in the space between us. The head glistens, desperate for release after weeks and weeks of relentless agony from Isla winding me up.
Her fingers spread the bead of wetness down my length while she pumps me. Every movement drives me to the edge of losing the last shred of control.
“I like your noises,” she admits, tightening her grip until another groan spills from my lips. “Don't hold back, Wes. It’s turning me on more.”
Her next move makes it impossible to hold back. Her mouth engulfs my cock—hot, tight, and so fucking soft. My grunt echoes around us, and Isla hums her approval. My hand grips the back of her head, wanting to keep her in place, desperate not to lose this euphoric feeling.
Isla controls the pace, her moves deliberate to maximize my torment. Each time, my hips jerk, she slows us down until I gain my composure before she quickens her pace again.
I’m so fucking desperate for relief that I’m turning into a whimpering mess each time she takes away the pressure I need. But each time she starts taking my cock again, sliding her mouth up anddown my shaft, I’m grateful that she’s prolonging this for me. I’m unraveling at the seams, but I don’t want this to end.
Isla pulls back with a loud pop, holding my dick in front of her mouth. “Take over, Wes,” she commands, as she shifts onto her back, hanging her head off the edge of the couch. “Useme.”
I drop to my knees in front of her. “Dammit, Isla. I didn't expect you to be so willing to please me.”
My discipline pales in comparison to hers, my hips thrusting in and out of her mouth as I chase my release. Isla’s legs fall apart, her hand sliding her dress up and dipping into the black lace on display. It’s the perfect tease, keeping me from seeing all of her like I so desperately need to.
My hips jerk, pulling my cock out of her mouth before I blow. “Oh, my…fuck, Isla. I can’t—”
“What’s wrong?” She rolls over, scrambling into the position she started in.
“I’m losing my mind watching you touch yourself. I need to taste you.” The desperation in my voice echoes the pounding deep in my gut, the barely contained need for her.
Her eyes drop to where I’m pinching my cock, trying to stave off my orgasm. “But you’re still—”
“I can wait.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?” I ask, needing to know that she’s agreeing because she wants this, too.
Isla scoots forward until her hips border the edge of the couch. She lifts her dress clean over her head, giving me my first full viewof her body. I drink her in, all lean muscles, soft creamy skin, and a scattering of adorable freckles. Her naval ring shimmers in the moonlight, and this time, I can admire it without needing to avert my gaze. Matching black lace undergarments, the only fabric left on her, areobscene.
“Fuck, you’re incredible,” I sigh, advancing toward her on my knees. I place my hands on her hips and kiss her. Isla’s breathless sigh sends another bolt of longing straight to my cock.
I reach around her, unclasping her bra and sliding the straps down her arms. My hand lands on her stomach, pressing gently until she’s lying flat.
I drag her panties down her legs and smirk up at her, tapping my shoulders. “Knees here, Red.”
Chapter 21
Wes
Islarestsherlegson my shoulders, presenting her perfect pussy to me.
My brain short-circuits, no words to be found when I reach for one to describe the vision before me.
I place my tongue flat against her clit, applying pressure until she lets out a contented sigh. My tongue drags back and forth against her, as my hands explore up her body. I’m as deliberate with my movements as she was, quickly bringing her to the edge. Her legs shake, hands grasping at my hair and tugging when she gets close. That’s my sign to ease back, to keep her teetering at the edge of her sanity.
“Wes…” she murmurs, fingernails digging into my forearms. My fingers keep pace with my tongue, flicking her hardened nipples. “Don’t stop.”
My right hand abandons her breast to slide two fingers inside her wet heat. I hook them, moving against her until her moans ratchet higher. It’s the fucking hottest sound I’ve ever heard. Isla’s legs thrash, her heels digging into my back.
“Your tongue,” she whimpers.
I slow my movements, teasing her, wanting the evidence of her desperation. And fuck does she deliver.
She bucks her hips against me. “Wes, now. I need younow.”
