“If you thought I was done with you, that I had gotten enough of your taste, you’re dead wrong, Bishop. I’m going to make you come at least once more that way, maybe two or three more times, before I finally fuck you.”
That’s a fucking promise I intend to keep, no matter how agonizing it might be for me…
And her…
She gasps, tugging at her bindings, and I grin against her lips.
“No”—she shakes her head—“I’m too sensitive. Too?—”
I release my cock and drag my thumb across her engorged clit, and her hips buck.
“Fuck…” She clenches her teeth, the muscles in her throat straining.
“I’m going to do it, Bishop, until you’re a quivering mess and begging me to take you, but remember, all you have to say is one word to make it stop. If that’s really what you want.”
She groans, because we both know that it isn’t really.
My Hellcat is just terrified of the pleasure she knows I’m going to bring her. Of not being the one driving that train.
All I have is an illusion of control, but it’s enough in the moment to have her panting in anticipation.
I slide back down and throw her thighs over my shoulders, burying my face between them again. She gasps, rolling against me, and I jab my tongue into her core.
Her thighs tighten around my head, and I groan into her flesh, digging my fingers into her as I hold her steady and lap at her hyper-sensitive clit.
The headboard creaks, mixing with the gasps and moans falling from her parted lips.
It’s music to my fucking ears, and I could devour her like this forever, but I know it won’t take long for her to explode a second time. Not when she’s so primed. Not when I don’t give her any quarter.
It only takes a few moments before her body tenses and she erupts again, grinding her cunt against my face as she twists in my hold. Her strong thighs crank on my neck, the best kind of pain caused by her absolute pleasure.
When she sags back to the mattress and her legs release their death grip on me, the headboard creaks again, and I look down at her from my position, her body angled up toward me, her pussy still directly in my face.
I kiss her glistening inner thigh. “What do you think, Bishop? Again?”
She shakes her head. “No. I can’t.”
“I think you can, Hellcat.”
She whimpers, but it only encourages me to dip my head again, and this time, slide my hand up to shove two fingers into her. Her strangled groan and the way her cunt clenches around me proves she can do it. I curl and thrust up into her G-spot, dragging my calloused fingertips there with each retreat while I alternate between flicking my tongue across her clit and sucking it gently.
Over, and over, and over again.
Building her up slowly this time.
I so badly want to see her truly come undone, to give her the one thing I know no man ever has.
And I know when it’s coming.
She thrashes in my hold, gasping and tugging at the headboard binding until it finally happens. The ultimate release. She squirts, shooting down my throat and coating my mouth and tongue with her addictive taste.
I swallow down every drop, the satisfaction of knowing I did that enough to make me give up my resolve to try to milk another one out of her this way.
Because I can’t wait anymore.
I need to be inside her.
It’s all I’ve wanted since the moment I walked into The Hawkeye Club and saw her. And despite all the reasons why it’s a horrible idea, I’m not going to stop until she says “red.”
