“Oh my God,” she gasps, her voice breaking into pieces. “Don’t stop, don’t… fuck—”
Her thighs begin to shake around my head, and I can sense her tightening around my fingers, getting close, and I’ve never wanted anything more in my life than to make her come apart on my tongue.
This girl. This moment. It’s transforming everything, and I’m too far gone to prevent it.
Her hips start moving, rolling against my face, and she’s basically fucking my mouth now, using me for her pleasure, and it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced. I want her to take what she needs from me.
I can’t take my eyes off her. The way her chest rises and falls with each ragged breath, the flush spreading across her skin like wildfire. How her mouth falls open in silent cries that she can’t quite voice, as if pleasure has stolen her ability to speak.
She’s so fucking beautiful like this. Free. Completely lost in what I’m doing to her.
I curl my fingers harder, pressing against that spot inside her with more pressure, and at the same time I suck her clit between my lips, flicking my tongue over it relentlessly.
She shatters.
Lola’s whole body stiffens, every muscle locking tight. Her hand fists brutally in my hair, yanking hard enough that pain shoots across my scalp.
She comes with my name on her lips.
Her pussy pulses around my fingers, rhythmic contractions that squeeze tight, and there’s a rush of wetness that coats my tongue, my lips, my chin. She tastes even sweeter like this, and I groan against her, the vibration making her cry out again.
I work her through it, my fingers still curling, my tongue still lapping at her clit but now gentler, drawing it out, making it last as long as I possibly can.
Her thighs tremble violently around my head, shaking so hard.
Jace…” she gasps, her voice trembling. “I can’t—”
She pushes at my head, her fingers loosening in my hair, trying to make me stop because it’s too much, because she’s too sensitive.
When I finally pull back, my face is wet with her, slick with her arousal coating my lips and chin. My cock is throbbing so hard it’s almost painful. I’m staring at her sprawled out on the bed beneath me.
She just rewrote everything I thought I knew about sex.
I’ve gotten girls off before with a finger here, some half-assed rubbing there, just enough to make them think I give a shit so they’ll let me fuck them.
But watching Bells come apart on my tongue is more satisfying than most of the releases I’ve had with other girls.
I get up from the bed. My cock is hard and leaking. I reach for my jeans crumpled on the floor, fumbling in the pocket with fingers that won’t cooperate until I find the condom I always keep there.
Old habit. The responsible fuckboy. Always prepared because getting a girl pregnant is the last thing I need in my already fucked up life.
I put the condom on quickly, my cock twitching in my hand as I smooth the latex down. The familiar routine should calm me, ground me, remind me that this is simply sex.
Before I position myself between her legs and do what every instinct in my body is screaming at me to do, I pause.
I need to kiss her.
The thought slams into me hard, drowning everything else out. I’ve been thinking non-stop about kissing her again. It’s consuming me, taking over every thought, every moment of my day. In class when the teacher is talking. At night when I should be sleeping, I’m lying awake replaying every kiss and that one fuck we had, wanting more.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
Kissing her and fucking her is all I can think about now.
I lean down and capture her mouth with mine, and the moment our lips touch, everything else fades away. She kisses me back instantly, her arms wrapping around my neck and pulling me closer, and I sink into it.
She angles her hips beneath me, spreading her legs wider, the heat of her pussy against my cock. The invitation is clear. Unmistakable.
I break the kiss long enough to look at her, to see those blue eyes watching me with something that resembles trust, and then I slide into her. Slow. Inch by fucking inch.
