Dirty Scoundrel(22)

I'm never listening to Lexi again. This is what I get for taking the  advice of a woman who dresses up at Christmas as "Cthulhu's Little  Helper." Lexi's a sweetheart but perhaps not the best for dating advice.  That does it. I'm picking up a Cosmo magazine the next time I go out.  "Maybe," I begin, rattled. "Should we wait? I mean, you don't have to.  It might not be your kind of thing or-"

"Nat," he says, glancing up at me even as he grabs the waistband of my  bunched-up panties. "Stop talkin' already. I'm doin' this and you're not  gonna hem and haw your way outta things, all right?"

Well, who am I to demand that a man not go down on me? I suppose if he  doesn't like it, I'll know soon enough. Still, I can't help but feel a  little . . . stressed as I wait for the verdict. He said he liked the  way I looked, but what if he hasn't looked closely enough-

My panties roll down my thighs and then Clay flings them to the floor.  There's a look of delight on his face, like it's Christmas Day or  something. One hand runs down my leg, his thumb skimming the inside of  my thigh. "You really do have the best damn legs, Nat. Fuckin' thick and  juicy."

"You make me sound like a drumstick," I mutter. Not exactly the sexy talk I was hoping for to ease my worries.

He just wiggles his eyebrows at me, grinning. "You know why? Because-"

"If there's a finger-licking joke in there, I'm getting off this bed right now," I warn him.

Clay throws his head back and roars with laughter, and I have to admit a  little giggle sneaks out of me, too. "Busted," he says between  chuckles. "It was too good to pass up." His grin turns sly and he leans  down, kissing the inside of my knee. "Much like this pussy."

Oh, heaven help me.

I watch as Clay drops to his knees. He pulls mine apart, spreading my  legs, and I feel more open and vulnerable than ever before.

My nervousness ratchets up and I can't help but hold my breath, waiting.  Waiting for his mouth to touch me, or for him to get up and decide he  doesn't want to bother. I don't know what to expect. Then his hand goes  to my knee, and I practically jump off the bed in my anxiety.         

     



 

"Don't be scared," he murmurs. "This ain't gonna hurt a bit."

I give a little snort, because that's the most ridiculous thing I've  heard yet. Of course it's not going to hurt. I'm distracted, though, and  I don't realize how far in he is until I feel his beard brush against  the inside of my thigh.

Oh god. He's about to-

And then he is.

And then I'm melting.

His mouth goes over my pussy and I feel his tongue drag against the  seam. He makes a low humming sound in his throat, and then parts my  folds with his fingers, and licks me again. This time, I feel his tongue  move directly over my clit.

I nearly come off the bed.

This feels . . . indescribable. I literally have no words, no thoughts,  no nothing. I'm just a big ball of mush. My bones? Gone. Voice? Gone.  Everything is gone except my ability to feel-and it's all concentrated  squarely on wherever his tongue lands.

Clay makes that noise again, and I realize it's not a hum as much as it  is a groan. "Lemme know if I'm doin' it in a way you don't like," he  murmurs, and his beard brushes against the insides of my thighs again,  tickling me. I can hear him kiss my pussy-oh god-and then his tongue  drags over my skin again. "Wanna make this good for you."

I'm having a hard time thinking. I'm having a hard time doing anything  other than just melting in the bed. "S'good," I breathe. "Y-you okay?"

He presses a kiss to my inner thigh, right where my leg meets my pussy,  and it's the most erotic thing ever. "Better than okay. Mind if I stay  down here awhile?"

Do I mind? Is he crazy? "Only if you want to."

"Baby, there is nothing I want more. You taste fuckin' amazin'." As if  to prove his words, his head ducks down again and I feel his beard  against my thighs a moment before his mouth goes over my clit again.

This time I can't help the needy cry that escapes my throat. I press a  hand to my forehead, as if that'll somehow help me hold it together.

"That feel good?" he rasps, and presses his tongue against my clit  again. A second later, he's using it the same way I showed him how to  touch me-light pressure around my clit instead of directly over it. And  dear god, it feels amazing. I've never felt anything better-until he  hitches one of my legs over his shoulder and slides a finger deep inside  me.

My entire body jerks in response, and I feel as if I'm about to explode.  "Clay," I pant, and my hands go to his head, as if I can hold him in  just the right spot.

"Come for me, Nat," he growls against my thighs. His tongue circles my  clit again and his finger pumps inside me. "Want you to come all over my  face."

The little cry is building inside me, and I dig my fingers into his  thick hair. Oh god, I want to come, too. I want to come so badly.

He redoubles his efforts, finger thrusting deep as well as his mouth and  tongue working over my clit. I tighten my grip on him, because I'm so  close and yet terrified he's going to pull away, or change his rhythm,  and that elusive, slowly building orgasm is going to disappear before-

And then it happens.

Everything in my body seems to clench all at once, and something bursts  inside me. I cry out, even as Clay continues to work me with his mouth  and fingers, and then I'm coming so hard I'm seeing stars. Over and  over, the pleasure washes through me, stunning in its intensity.

I've never come so hard before. Masturbation has nothing to the reality of Clay's mouth.

I'm lost to the world, riding the wave of pleasure, until he lifts his  head and his fingers slide out of me. He presses little kisses to the  inside of my knee, his beard tickling my skin, and I sigh heavily when  all of the strength ebbs out of me.

God, that was . . . Yeah. I have no words. I'm just stunned at the intensity of it all.

His teeth scrape against my inner thigh and Clay strokes my leg. "Feel all right?"

"Mmm, yes," I breathe. I feel better than all right. I feel . . .  remade. Like I've been beaten to a pulp (in a good way) and then  reshaped again. It's a weird sensation.

He chuckles. "Good. I'm gonna go grab a condom." He gives my knee one  more kiss and then bounds up from the floor. It takes my dazed brain a  moment to realize what he's just said, and by the time I sit up, he's  returning, a small foil packet in hand. I watch as he rips it open and  then pauses by the end of the bed to roll it down his length. I'm  fascinated by the flushed color of his skin down there, as well as the  thickness of his length. Definitely bigger than before. Definitely  fascinating. Definitely fills me with a lot of emotions at the sight.         

     



 

Part of me's not ready.

Part of me can't wait for what's next.

But then Clay's climbing back into the bed and in the next moment, he's  over me. His mouth finds mine and then he's kissing me with deep, hungry  strokes of his tongue even as his weight settles over my body. And god,  he feels incredible. The sensation of his weight pressing over me is  surprisingly delicious, and I don't protest when he puts a hand on the  inside of my knee and pushes my thighs apart so he can move between my  legs. His kisses are wildly distracting, and I wrap my arms around his  neck, lost to the siren call of his incredible mouth. I love kissing  him. I could cheerfully kiss for hours and never grow tired of it. How  have I gone seven long years without kissing Clay Price? I've missed it  so much.

I've missed him so much.

Clay reaches between us and his weight shifts on top of me. He braces  one arm next to my head, and then I feel him drag the head of his cock  up and down my folds. I squirm against him, sucking in a breath. "Clay?"

"S'okay, baby," he murmurs, and presses light, feathery kisses to my  mouth once more. "Just getting things good and slick so I can push  inside you easier." His tongue brushes against the seam of my mouth, and  then he groans. "Love how fuckin' wet you are, Nat. Feel how slick."

And he drags the head of his cock up and down my folds again. I gasp  when it brushes over my clit, sending little flutters of pleasure  through my body again.

He kisses me again and then his weight shifts. The hard length of him is  suddenly pressing against the entrance to my core, and it feels a  little . . . intimidatingly large. I hold tightly on to him and close my  eyes. I'm pretty sure this is going to hurt.

"I've got you, Nat," he whispers. And then he pushes inside me.

It doesn't hurt. Not exactly. But it doesn't feel great, either. The  overwhelming sensation is that of tightness, and little twinges of  discomfort shoot through me. It's not painful, but at the same time,  it's not exactly fun, either.

But Clay groans deeply, and he presses his face against my neck, his  weight on top of me. "God, Nat. You feel incredible. You're so . . .  tight."