All mine.
“More,” she cried, meeting my punishing thrusts.
I circled her throat with my hand and whispered against her lips, “Everything.”
That was a promise.
“This is the most ridiculous kitchen gadget I’ve ever seen in my life.” She squealed when I handed her a plate with the finished breakfast sandwich. “And I absolutely love it.”
She pecked my lips before tearing into the sandwich. I smirked, knowing that I was the reason she had worked up an appetite.
It had been going on noon by the time we’d made it out of bed. Nellie, clad only in my favorite Goo Goo Dolls tee and her Aircast, had perched herself on my countertop, insistent on a front-row seat to my breakfast making. Not that there was much to it. My breakfast sandwich maker, a takeaway from last year’s gift exchange game with my family, did most of the work for me.
“Okay, why does this taste so good?”
“I told you.”
“Seriously,” she said around another bite of sandwich. “I’m never going to be able to look at a breakfast sandwich the same way again.”
Egg yolk dripped down the corner of her mouth. She eyed me through a hooded gaze when I leaned forward and captured her lips—yellow goo and all—with mine.
“Mmm,” I said, licking my lips. “You taste good.”
“I doubt that. I haven’t even brushed my teeth yet.”
“Janelle, I had my tongue in your asshole last night. Do you really think a little morning breath will bother me?”
Her hand shot out to cover my mouth, just as somebody knocked at the door. There was a very short list of people who would show up at my door unannounced, so chances were good it was either Sloane, the UPS. delivery guy, or the Girl Scout who lived in 4B.
Unfortunately, there was no package or box of cookies waiting on my porch when I opened the door, but rather my assistant.
“You’re not dressed yet?” she asked before storming into my apartment.
“Hello to you, too.”
“We have the Christmas train at two, and it’s going to take at least an hour to get there. I told you I would pick you up at—”
She stopped when she noticed the woman sitting on my counter. The one not wearing pants.
“Well, well, well. I must have missed the breakfast invitation.”
Nellie bit her lip. “Hi, Sloane.”
“Hello, again. I’ll get back to you in a second.” She spun in her sky-high heels to face me. “Youforgot.”
It wasn’t a question.
“I was a little . . . tied up.”
Nellie’s cheeks flushed, no doubt remembering the way I had bound her wrists to my bed frame last night for our second round of lovemaking. For nearly an hour, she had pushed and pulled at the restraints, desperate to thrust herself against the lips and fingers tormenting her pussy.
And she’d loved every second of it. We both had.
Nellie’s moans had turned to cries, then eventually screams. Loud enough to wake up the entire apartment complex.Poor Mrs. Lyons.She’d nearly shot off the mattress when I’d finally let her come, first on my fingers, and then again on my cock with her good leg draped over my shoulder. We’d both been drenched with sweat and . . . other stuff by the time I’d lifted her into my arms and carried us both to the shower.
There, I held her under the spray until the water had run cold. Touching her, loving her, memorizing every freckle and scar because they were equally beautiful. And she’d done the same, tracing over my tattoos with her fingers and lips before dropping to her knees and taking me into her mouth.
I might have blacked out when my cock had nudged the back of her throat. Who would have thought that the bubblegum princess who lived next door would be a world-class cocksucker?
