“You want me, don’t you, cowboy? You want to be inside me?” I swirl the palm of my hand around the tip again.
He groans and grunts, still twitching and jerking as he tries to maintain control of himself.
“I want you,” he chokes out. “I want you, darlin’.”
I’m paralyzed for a split second, trying hard not to put meaning to his words outside of this moment, outside of this context.This is not what I think it is, I remind myself. He doesn’t want melike that.
I lift myself up and straddle a knee on either side of him, lowering to press his shaft against my clit.
“You can touch me now.”
Waylon’s hands rush to my face, pulling my mouth down to his. He kisses me deeply as I grind my pussy hard against his throbbing cock.
His right palm slides from my jaw to around my throat, and then he cups my tits. His mouth moves to my nipple. He sucks and swirls his tongue, then moves to the other one and repeats.
“Waylon!” I moan. “Oh my god!”
He presses his index and middle finger past my lips and into my mouth. I suck, lapping my tongue against them. When they’re completely wet, he uses them to pinch and tweak one of my nipples as he gently nibbles the other.
“Fuck,” I whisper. I feel like I’m losing my mind. I grind harder against him, desperate for more. More touching. More kissing. More white-hot electric buzzing all over my fucking skin.
“Goddamnit,” he says, pushing me from his lap. He rises to his knees and flips me over, putting my face against the mattress and ass in the air.
I spread my knees wide and arch my back as I feel the head of him slide over my entrance. My legs shake with anticipation, but he doesn’t push inside me. He just presses his length against me, teasing as I whimper.
“I’m going to fuck you, Lyric. I’m going to fuck you until you tell me to stop or until you’re body gives out.” He gives my ass cheek a little smack. “Put your hands behind your back.” He slaps the other cheek. I do as he says.
“That’s a good girl,” he says.
And then my brain malfunctions. I’m writhing, desperate for relief.
“But I think before I fuck you, I’m going to have a taste of this sweet little cunt of yours again,” he whispers. “And you. Can’t. Come. Yet.”
Without warning, he shoves his tongue deep into my pussy. I moan into the mattress, muffling my screams as my legs shake uncontrollably.
“Waylon, fuck. Oh my god. Waylon. Please.”
His tongue flicks and twists inside me as I fight the urge to move my hands. He shakes his head side to side rapidly, testing the limits of my self-control.
I plead again. “Fuck me, Waylon. Now. Please.”
He switches positions, lining himself up behind me. The tip ofhis dick teases my entrance. I push back against him, thighs slick and a bead of sweat already trickling down my temple.
Sometimes it’s hard to come to terms with how badly I want him, with how much I ache for his touch, and how delicious that ache is to me. A person has to be a little fucked up to be addicted to yearning. But it’s more precise than that. Because it’s only him.
Waylon pushes his cock into me agonizingly slowly and drags himself back out at the same pace until only the head remains. Then he plunges deep again.
“Reach back and spread your ass cheeks,” he says, pumping into me. “I want to see that tight little asshole.”
I follow his instructions, listening to him groan as I spread myself wide for him.
“Look back over your shoulder at me, Lyric,” he demands, growling my name.
I twist back in time to watch him run his thumb across his lips and pop it into his mouth. He gives it a quick suck, wetting it thoroughly and lowering it again.
He circles my hole, the sensation making my body scream for more.
“Yes,” I moan. “Please.”
