“B-but... it’s t-too soon. They said another couple of weeks. I don’t... I... Oh my god your mouth.” Her eyes fill with tears as she cups my face. “Upstairs, now.”
With a roll of my eyes I head toward the staircase. “This is what I’ve been saying, woman.”
She smacks my ass as I climb. “Shut your sass or I’ll find something better for you to do with your tongue.”
I toss a warning glare at her over my shoulder. “The fires of hell couldn’t stop what I’m about to do with my tongue, Pitstop. Prepare to meet your maker.”
CHAPTER 32
Penelope
The man is possessed.
I’m not even kidding. The way he licks his lips and stares at my pussy like it’s a perfectly cooked, Michelin star steak verges on deranged.
It took him under three seconds to get naked, and it took me about the same because he told me if I didn’t hurry up and get naked he’d cut my clothes off, and I don’t have spares here.
He has me spread out under him on the bed, legs wide as his thumbs peel me open for him to enjoy. It’s a slow process, he’s taking his time, even though the glint in his eye is giving me the Joker and Harley Quinn vibes.
“Do you know how long I’ve waited for this?”
“About six weeks?”
He snorts. “Sure. We’ll go with that.”
He periodically runs his tongue around his mouth and flexes his jaw. I’m guessing that’ll take some time getting used to. Can’t blame him. That was a long and brutally painful recovery for him.
Something catches his eye on the bedside table, and I’m not sure if I should be glad of the extra moment to prepare myself for the assault of his tongue on my clit, or if I’m disappointed.
“What’s this?”
He picks up the tiny duck from the bedside unit.
“It’s a duck,” I answer, trying my best not to laugh as he presents the small, bright blue duck with an orange beak in front of me.
“I can see it’s a duck, what’s it doing in my room?”
I shrug, brushing it off as though I’ve never seen the duck before.
“How many?” He cants his head, eyes narrowing which just makes it even harder not to laugh.
“How many what?” My voice is shaking with amusement, I’m about to burst—in more ways than one.
“Tell me, She Devil. How many of these little fuckers have you hidden around this room?”
I roll my lips, shaking my head from side to side with innocent, wide eyes.
“It’s more than the room, isn’t it? It’s the house. Fuck. You’re a nightmare.”
I’m not expecting his fingers to pinch my clit, but the squeal that bursts out of me is obnoxious.
“How many?”
There’s a small chance I spent a little time today while most of the guys were out, placing over two hundred and fifty ducks around this house. Well, not the whole two fifty, I put maybe fifty of them in his dorm room so when he moves back and thinks he’s got them all and the ducks are a distant memory... quack, quack.
They’re everywhere, from nestled in the corners of picture frames and clocks, to hanging out in his condom drawer.
“Tell me or I’m not eating you out.”
