I plunge my fingers deeper inside her, harder, making a squelching sound as she covers my hand with her arousal. “Squirter.”
She groans, more liquid lubricates my fingers as she writhes under me. With my free hand, I shove her shirt up her body before pinching her nipple.
She hisses, in pain, or pleasure, I can’t quite tell, but she whimpers. “H-harder. Squeeze harder.”
Does she mean her g-spot or her nipple? Or both? Should I ask? Should I test? I need more information, but I don’t want to ruin the moment.
“Harder, Tate. Please.”
Ooooh, nothing sounds prettier to my ears than my girl asking me nicely. Wonder if I can make her beg. My balls tighten, aching for release, but I shift my weight, not ready to give in to the desire to let go, to give in to the release.
I squeeze her nipple harder, leaning over her body, I suck her other nipple into my mouth, frustration growing in my bones that I can’t open my mouth to lick and bite down on her sensitive peak.
I want to pry open the metal holding my teeth together and leave marks on my girl’s ample tits.
“Harder.” She grunts. When I press her g-spot harder, she pants, short, sharp gasps of air exploding from her body. Her pussy is so slick I struggle to stay on target with my thumb on her clit.
The ache to taste her makes my chest expand with need. Having one of my senses restricted is making me angrier than I anticipated. I want to taste her. Need to. I want to drag my tongue over her salty-slick skin, those beads of sweat prickling across her face as she rides closer to orgasm.
Her mouth tastes of pancakes, strawberries, and chocolate. I want to enjoy it, and when I’m done exploring every single piece of her mouth, I want to suck her clit between my lips, flutter my tongue against it, and then explore every inch of her pussy with my tongue.
Slurping at her core while she soaks me, savoring the salty-sweet tang of her arousal... fuck.
I need it.
I.Need. It.
When her nails bite into my shoulder as she grips me, I grin. I fucking love how responsive she is to me. Trying to distract myself from the fact I can’t taste her, I focus on my other senses.
How her chest and neck have splotches of red that spread across her pale body, her cheeks are flushed, the sheen of slick sweat appearing on her skin.
The smell of strawberries lingering in the air, her coconut shampoo, or lotion... I take my hand out of her and put it under my nose. I’m getting swept into the robust, earthy-sweet scent of her pussy when she shunts me hard.
“The fuck are you doing? You can’t just... You can’t get me all worked up and then just st?—”
I shove my fingers into her mouth. “Suck.”
She scowls, but sucks on my fingers anyway. I’m not sure if it’s the way her tongue laps at my digits, or the fact she did what I asked her to, but my cock’s twitching like a flag in the fucking wind, demanding attention.
“Do you taste sweet, Pitstop? Do you taste Majestic?”
When I pull out my fingers, she sits up and kisses me, leaving the faintest taste of her arousal lingering on my lips.
It drives me madder.
She flops back onto the bed, and as she says “make me come,” I’m already feeling her body, the hard, pebbled nipples, the sticky-damp skin, the smoothness of her thighs, the velvety feel of her walls as they clench my fingers.
I don’t hold back this time, I push, harder and harder, tweaking her nipple with my fingertips, circling her clit faster and faster as I press her g-spot.
Her panting gets sharper, the space between her breaths shorter as she strides up the side of the cliff, ready to jump, fall, or be pushed.
Her nails bite into my skin all over again, she’s going to leave marks, and when her fingers slide into my hair, she scrapes across my scalp leaving a burning trail as she scratches the tender skin.
Her body freezes, muscles tensing, head thrown back as her hair sticks to her face and fans out across the pillow.
When her mouth opens, a melodic, shrill scream bursts from her body as she comes apart on my hand.
“There she is. Keep coming, She Devil. I’m not done with you yet.”
