So, it’s no shock she’s making me wait in the hurricane of her hair blowing around from the fan by putting on a show. And she’s fucking great at it.
Slurping and twisting, teasing me with it going in and out of her stained lips, the throb pounding through my dick controls my hands, my impatient fingers squeezing and lifting her up into irrepressible grind of my hips.
The insane suction she was using pops loose, the stick lashing from her mouth and giving me room to snap a hand up to her jaw with my eye on the prize.
Her body stiffens against me, and she winces.
With my lips parted centimeters away from the fear that just came out of her open mouth, our eyes tangle through the heat.
Diving into her pools of hazel brown, images of Carl striking her flash through my head. I relax my hand around her jaw, smoothing it down the contours and lightly caging her throat. “Pain’s not always misery.”
CHAPTER TEN
BUNNY
Heart hammering, dizzying breaths dry my throat, swallowing against the possessive lock he has on me with his hand. “And misery’s not always pain,” I reply.
He just… He, uh… He put a popsicle inside me and made me see serenity with a lap of his tongue. Yet the hunger he’s staring at my mouth with is combusting the carnal burn that’s been building since he grabbed me and tossed me over his shoulder an hour ago.
The chainsaws are still a thought in the back of my mind, not fully dissolved but not important enough to dwell on. Not with how close he is to my mouth.
“Do you wanna kiss me, Bunny?” he whispers, coasting his other hand up my thigh, forcing my leg tighter against the slow thrust of his hips. “Doyou like that I wanna dogross thingsto you? Like, fuck you with a popsicle and make you eat it? Do you wanna know what else I wanna do?”
The salacious questions web into the stomach dropping fact that he overheard Ora and me on the bleachers the other day.
Maybe it’s a blessing he doesn’t let me respond. Nothing intelligible would come out of my mouth with how jarred I am.
His hand slips around my throat and he grabs the side of my neck, stroking his thumb down the nervous swallow he’s inducing as he brushes his lips up mine.
“Tell me you want me to kiss you,” he pleads hoarsely, his warm breath enhancing the heat sticking to my face.
“Not yet…” I frown, moving my hand to the sweat dampening the black fabric on his chest and tracing the tip of my forefinger along his barbed wire chain.
Slowly, his eyes slide up from my mouth, the dark yearn drilling past my pupils to unlock the reason why.
But he already knows.
And him not immediately leaning away, like it’s such a disturbing thing to feel everything too deeply, leads me to believe that he could be my sanguine through the looped misery.
“You just want me to play with your pussy?” he tilts his head, using his free hand to pry my knee from his hip. “I’ll play with it until you love me, Bunny. And after,-” he brushes his fingers along my inner thigh, peering down between us at what he’s going to destroy “-I’ll never let you forget my name.”
His soft touch feathering closer to what he started but hasn’t finished breezes a whimper through my nose—like the impressionable “prey” I am. “Your stage name?” I question quietly.
He skims his fingertips over my clit, shooting me another lewd smile as my body reacts with a twitch. “This is all a performance. So… let me give you something worth applauding.”
Strumming his fingers against me, the pressure expanding up my navel drops my jaw, and he places a fervent kiss on my cheek.
“So sweet, little bunny,” he whispers.
I almost don’t hear him. Between the spins of adrenaline and the old blades rotating behind me, I feel like I’m drowning, like I passed out from heat exhaustion, and I’ll wake up to Carl hitting me in my tent.
But those are the thoughts that take me several steps back. The thoughts that thicken my throat and chest with a weight that makes me lose control.
His lips working down my neck bring me back. They attack the delusions and force me to accept reality for what it is. And registering the switch to his thumb on my clit, his fingertips circling my vagina and easing in, has me grabbing his prodded chain and granting him more access to my neck by tilting my head back.
“Do you think of me?” he asks, using my moan as encouragement to stretch me open with two fingers.
“Yes,” my chest heaves, straightening my neck to watch him trail his affection between my breasts, my sticky hand gravitating back into his hair.
