She didn't complain or dissuade me-not that it would have done any good. Instead, she just gave the most pleasurable sigh I've ever heard when I made short work of stripping her bare and burying my face between her legs.
I gave her no mercy and within seconds she was moaning and writhing on the micro-suede cushions, her hands gripping my hair for dear life. She tasted fucking divine and I plunged my tongue in and out of her ruthlessly, fueled on by her groans of pleasure and the way her hips would buck hard against my chin. It turned me on so much, I may have gone a little crazy on her. I put my tongue to work in other ways, licking and sucking at her while my fingers pushed in deep.
She came fast, and hard, and she screamed my name again, and I swear I almost came just from hearing that. I laid my chin just above her pelvic bone and watched her come back to awareness. When the fog cleared from her eyes and she focused in on me, she grinned and said, "Get naked."
And then I had a condom on and was pounding inside of her and it was just as good, if not better, than last night. She urged me to go harder, deeper. She dug her nails in my ass and even bit me on my shoulder which in turn caused me to fuck her just a little bit rougher.
And then I came super fucking hard, way faster than I ever have before. So hard, I had lights winking in my peripheral vision, and even after the shudders had gone silent within me, I found I wanted her again.
But that's when I noticed a burning smell in the air, and when I opened my eyes, I saw a haze of smoke above us.
"Fuck!" I yelled as I jumped up and ran buck-ass naked into the kitchen. Opening the oven door, I looked in and saw that the lasagna I had put under the broiler just before she rang the doorbell was burnt to a black crisp, smoke curling away from the pan and rising into the air.
"Guess we're ordering pizza, huh?"
Turning around, I saw Sutton standing there-just as naked as I was-with a grin on her face.
"Sorry," I muttered with an apologetic grin. "Guess I got sidetracked when I saw you in my doorway."
Sutton sauntered up to me and wrapped her arms around my neck. She pressed her body in warmly to mine, and I felt my cock jump at the contact. "I'm glad it burned. I rather liked the way you greeted me tonight."
I kissed her then, softly, because I hadn't even bothered to kiss her before when I was just fucking her in my living room a moment ago. Her tongue met mine and we moved our mouths against each other with delicate softness.
And while the kiss was sweet and sensitive, it in no way diminished my lust, which was growing for her once more, as evidenced by the fact I was getting hard again.
"How hungry are you?" I asked as I pulled away from her lips.
"Not very," she whispered, her fingertips grazing across one of my nipples.
Fuck, that felt good.
"We'll order pizza later," I told her as I bent down and lifted her up over my shoulder.
Giggling, she braced herself with her hands on my lower back. "What are we doing now?"
Smoothing my hand over her ass as I walked out of my kitchen and toward my bedroom, I told her, "Round two. Then we'll eat."
Yeah, we went at it just as hard, and I love the wild, uninhibited fucking with Sutton. She loves it too, I can tell. Just the thought of it starts my dick twitching again, so I take another slice of pizza from the box to refocus my attention for just a few minutes.
"So has Brandon tried to contact you?" I ask casually. I'm not worried about the moron. He doesn't present a threat to me, but I don't want him bugging Sutton if she's not into him. She doesn't need the stress.
"Yeah, he called me a few times today but I haven't called him back yet," she says, picking a piece of pepperoni off her slice of pizza and folding it delicately with her fingers. Then she pops it in her mouth, licking the grease off.
Yup … my dick jumps again just watching her do something as innocuous as eating a piece of pepperoni.
"Why do you have to call him back? Just ignore him," I say simply, taking another bite of pizza.
Sutton shrugs her shoulders with a quick jerk, her brows furrowed inward. "I guess I feel like I owe him an explanation or something."
Setting my slice of pizza down on my paper plate, I wipe my hands with a napkin, ball it up and then throw it down on the table. "Why do you think you owe him? He dumped you, right?"
My question isn't asked with any censure implied. I'm genuinely curious as to why she feels this way.
"I guess because there was a time I loved him. And because he once gave me an explanation. He didn't have to, but it was important to him to do so. I may not like what he told me, but I've always appreciated his honesty."