“Jesus, woman.” He tilts my face up toward his, both hands holding my cheeks. “You’re fucking incredible.”
And then his lips descend on mine once more, but they don’t stay on my lips. They slide down to my chin, my neck, my breasts. Each nipple gets the attention of his teeth and tongue before he drops to his knees and worships my belly, and then my pussy.
I can still feel his cum leaking from my body, but that doesn’t stop him from burying his face between my legs, nipping at my clit and delving inside. His hands clutch my rear, forcing me to use his face for balance. Which I have absolutely no problem with because pleasure is again sparking down my spine, and my knees are dangerously close to giving out.
But when the fingers of one hand skim down the crack of my ass, approaching my no-go zone, I squirm, trying to move away from him.
He tightens his grip, and my squirming is completely useless, except for how it moves me another notch toward orgasm. He went there that night, but I was too drunk on whiskey and pleasure to care or protest.
But now? In the broad and sober light of day? I’m not sure I can handle it.
He looks up, lust and confusion written across his features in equal measure.
“What? You have a problem with me eating your freshly fucked pussy?”
I shiver under his penetrating stare. It misses nothing. As if testing my reaction, those questing fingers lightly cross over the pucker of my ass again, and I try to pull away.
A grin curves his mouth into a devastating smile as he circles it with his thumb and adds the slightest pressure.
I flinch at the nerve endings rocketing to life. “I don’t . . .”
He leaves that sensitive spot and I relax, but altogether too soon. He brings his fingers forward to dip inside me.
“You’ve never taken a cock up this gorgeous ass, Holly?”
My eyes widen, and I stammer, “No . . . no. Never.”
“That’s going to change.” His flashing brown eyes are wicked when he adds, “Maybe not today—or even tomorrow—but when it does, I’ll make you fucking love it. You’ll beg for it.”
I swallow as another flood of moisture drips onto his fingers.
“Don’t pretend you don’t like the idea, because your body has already spoken. Let me show you.”
Shaking my head doesn’t help because his questing fingers are already drawing my slickness to my back hole. My muscles twitch at the zings of pleasure.
Staring up at me, he presses one finger against my asshole. I try to remain unaffected, but it’s a losing battle. I bite my lip to hold in my moan, but it escapes anyway.
“That’s right, baby. I’m going to finger-fuck this tight little virgin asshole, and you’re going to come on my face while I do it.”
“Oh my God,” I whisper as his touch tests and then breaches the ring of muscle. Tremors rip through me as his finger presses in.
“That’s a good girl. You take it. You take everything I give you.”
I don’t remember moving my hands, but they’re cupping my breasts and tugging at my nipples, desperate to spread sensations of pleasure.
His finger slides deeper and begins to thrust as his mouth lowers to my clit once again. The vibrations of his groans intensify the sensations rioting through my body. When I feel a second finger circling my entrance, I stiffen, but a nip to my clit distracts me from the flaring nerve endings.
My head thrashes from side to side against the cool tile wall, pain and pleasure mixing and sparking as he thrusts with his fingers and toys with my clit with his tongue, teeth, and lips.
This man owns every one of my senses, and I lose myself to his forbidden touches as he forces me higher and higher until I shatter.
When I release Holly, she slides down the wall, her head dropping forward onto my shoulder. We’re both on our knees under the pounding spray of the shower, and I wonder if every time I touch her I’ll feel like I’ve found the goddamn Holy Grail. It’s a little unnerving, and not at all a feeling I’m accustomed to.
I stand, carefully helping her to her feet. I wash us both and shut off the water before wrapping Holly in a giant fluffy robe. It swallows her small frame, and in her blissed-out postcoital state, she looks like a sated goddess.
I carry her to the bed and settle her on a mountain of down pillows. My chest tightens strangely at her sleepy smile, and I feel the need to beat on it like fucking King Kong. I am the opposite of sated. I’m revved, ready to fuck her into oblivion, and feeling like I’m the goddamn king of the world. Her orgasms fill me with this insane power trip, like I could tear down buildings with my bare hands and then reassemble them with only my willpower.