I still my fingers and curl them, massaging her g-spot to coax more from her while I eat her pussy like it’s my last meal. “Come on baby. Give me another one.”
“I can’t,” she cries.
“You sure as fuck can. And you will,” I demand. “Now give me what I’ve earned.”
It takes all of thirty seconds before another orgasm crashes through her as a rush of fluid washes over my face and chest, soaking me and the bed beneath us.
Her body tenses.
“Did I just… pee on your face?”
“No, you didn’tpeeon my face.” I can't stop the laugh that escapes me at her concern as I sit back on my heels and wipe my entire forearm across my mouth in one exaggerated movement. “Have you really never squirted before?”
She shakes her head, cheeks blushed with embarrassment. An overwhelming sense of accomplishment washes over me that I’m the only man to get her to squirt. It’s not my first time making a woman come this way, but there’s something very captivating about the way she welcomes something new. Her eyes light up and her face flushes as she processes the new information. I want to be the cause of every new thing she experiences.
“I’m impressed. I’ve found that most women are capable of squirting, but for most, it takes quite a bit of orgasm training before they can relax enough to just let it happen.”
“But, I don’t understand how I didn’t just empty my bladder all over you.”
I lazily stroke her inner thighs. “It’s pretty similar to urinating which is why itfeltlike you were peeing on me. But the fluid is different. It’s tasteless and colorless. I don’t smell any pee. Do you?”
“No. I don’t think so.” She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth and grins. “I kinda wanna do it again.”
Oh she’ll be doing it again if I get my way. Over and over again.
“Don’t you worry about that. There’s plenty more where that came from, sweet girl,” I assure her as I lean over and cover her spent body with mine, caging her in and assaulting her with a deep kiss.
The second our lips part, she giggles. “Can I move my hands please, Sir?”
“Yes, of course.” I reach my hand for hers as I roll off her and stand. “It's time to get cleaned up, anyway. We both have to work tonight, and it’ll be here before you know it.”
36
Arabella
Life has been full of surprises lately. Aside from working and staying with Ryker, I’m fucking him as well. Despite having my car back, I still rode with him to the club every night this last week. Tonight is the exception. Tonight he’ll be going to work alone, while I have dinner with my mother. My nerves are already on edge, dreading that I promised to do this with her. Silver lining? I’ll be able to get it out of the way, and then she won’t bug me for a bit.
“Lunch is ready, sweet girl,” Ryker announces from the kitchen as he sets two plates down, already adorned with what looks like–a panini?
Confused, I look at the grilled sandwich and then to him. Christ, he’s so fucking handsome. “Did you make this? It looks delicious.”
“No,” he admits, brows raised. “It’s one of those meal delivery things. If you don’t like it, we can look at the menu and order something different.”
If I didn’t think he was perfect before, I certainly do now. Although, now I have more questions. “Don’t you ever, just cook?”
“Aside from basic breakfast, nope.”
“So, there is something you can’t do after all,” I chuckle. “I didn’t think I’d ever find anything.”
“Watch it,” he warns. If it weren’t for the slight smirk on his face, I might worry I crossed a line. “I already told you. There’s lots I can’t do. You’re bound to come across some, the more time we spend together.Time. That one word serves as a reminder that our time together is limited, pulling me from the levity of the conversation.
“Hey, where did you go just now?” He questions, as we settle in to eat our lunch.
“I–just got distracted for a moment.”
“One of these days, you’re going to trust me enough to just tell me what’s on your mind without me having to pull it from you. Need I remind you about ouropen communicationagreement?”
I release a heavy sigh, wishing I could take it back so we could go back to lightheartedly flirting with one another. But I don’t want him to think I’m some needy, clingy little girl that can’t keep her emotions contained. So, I lie. “I was thinking about tonight, wishing I didn’t have to go.”
