Arrogant Playboy(133)

“Not interested. Sorry.” He’s not coercing me into being his little sex toy tonight. No free blow jobs for him.

“You’re challenging me. And now I have no other choice but to prove you wrong,” he says. His weight shifts off the bed, but by the time I look up to see where he’s gone, he’s lowered himself to his knees, his hands reaching between my thighs to spread my legs apart.

“What are you doing?” I try to squeeze my knees together, but he’s stronger than me.

His fingers find my folds, separating them, massaging my slit and circling around my sensitive nub. “Fuck. You’re wet as hell. You were wet before I even touched you.”

Before I have a chance to defend myself, a wet and warm sensation silences my thoughts. When I glance down, Jensen’s head is between my thighs. He takes long strokes with his tongue before circling and exploring every part of me in the most intimate way imaginable.

“Relax,” he whispers between licks. My legs fall wider, obeying his command. I’m submitting to him because this is the greatest feeling in the entire world. I’m at his mercy. I’ll do anything he says, as long as he doesn’t stop.

My breath quickens, my heart pounding with every lick, suck, and twirl. He’s a magician. My sex is pulsing and pounding as I try to fight off mini waves of orgasms that threaten to shorten this supernatural experience. I can’t come yet. I’m not ready. I won’t let myself.

Jensen’s hand inches up past my belly until he takes a nipple between his thumb and forefinger, twisting just enough to provide a bit of a distraction. And then his warmth leaves me. No more tongue.

“Why’d you stop?” I pant.

He unzips his jeans, pulling everything off and then climbing onto the bed. Jensen grabs my hips and pulls them toward him. “Sit on my face, but face that way.” He points to the foot of the bed, so I straddle him backwards and he lowers me to his mouth.

I’m in control now, bucking my hips against his mouth as his hands grip the flesh of my hips. I’m on my knees, desperate for something to cling onto, to ground me.

I bend forward, coming face to face with his throbbing erection. In a hazy fit of blinding lust, I instinctively grab the base of it, bringing the tip of it to my lips. It’s warm and soft against my mouth. My lips part, my tongue extending to taste the tiny drop of pre-cum that rests on top of his swollen member. It’s slightly sweet, mostly salty, and not nearly as disgusting as I expected.

I swallow the tiny drop and bask in the naughty feeling it gives me. My tongue strokes the length of him from base to tip and back before circling his head. He moans deep against my sex when I take him into my mouth. He’s velvet and heat, deliciously forbidden, and I can’t quite fit him all.

His tongue continues lapping my arousal, hungrier and needier with each passing minute. My breasts graze his lower abs as I continue licking and sucking him. This is like sex, but softer, gentler, and even more sensual.

Feeling his tongue invading my sex as his erection fills my mouth is strangely intense. Jensen was right. Again.

“I’m gonna come.” He breathes his words hot onto my sensitive skin moments later, his hardness swelling and pumping into my mouth. His fingers dig into me, threatening to leave marks. A few long spurts and he’s dripping down the back of my throat.

I rise up to my knees, his mouth still commanding my hips. I grab my breasts as I rock against him.

Closer…

Until I hit the edge I’d been fighting all along.

Intensity rains down on me in uncontrollable spasms. Jensen grips me, refusing to let me leave his tongue until he’s drained every last ounce of orgasm from my spent body.

I collapse on the bed next to him, burying my face against a free pillow. I’ve no idea how I’m going to walk out of here when I can’t feel my legs.

“Waverly,” he says.

“I know, I know. I’ll leave in a second.”

“No, I was going to say, you don’t have to leave. Your mom and Bellamy are asleep, right? And your dad’s at Summer’s?”

“You want me to stay?”

“I wasn’t done drawing you.”

“So that wasn’t a ploy to get me to…?”

“No,” he laughs, his full lips arching wide. His fingertip scratches the spot just above his left brow. “That just, um… that just happened.”

We lie on his bed, neither of us in a hurry to grab our clothes off the floor.

My eye catches a round, dime-sized scar on his chest, hidden between two points of his tattoos. I’d never noticed it before, and I trace it with the tip of my finger. “What happened here?”