“No. There’s no competition.” He leans up enough to kiss me square on the mouth before pulling out and flopping over onto his back next to me. “I need water. I need air,” he says.
I turn over on my side and put my hand under my head, propping it up under my elbow. I suddenly have tons of happy energy surging through me. “What’s the matter? Too much for ya?”
He shifts his head the slightest bit to look at me and lifts an eyebrow. “Don’t make me come over there,” he warns.
A shiver runs from my hoo-hah up to my heart. “Why not?”
He leans over and slides a thick finger into my swollen wet folds. “Because,” he says, putting his lips up to mine, “I’ll have to fuck you into submission.”
I am not ashamed to say that I rode that finger all the way back to the point where I started screaming last time.
I don’t know how many more minutes pass before I finally fall back onto my side of the bed, but I am considerably less sassy now than I was before. He’s a little scary with how easily he sends me over the edge. Is it possible to have a heart attack from orgasms? Maybe I should take an aspirin or something.
He’s looming over me. “You like that?” His grin tells me he already knows the answer.
“Don’t get cocky,” I say, lifting one eyebrow. It’s a pretty weak lift, but it’s enough. He knows I’m not playing.
“Never. You’re too dangerous to get cocky with.” He kisses me on the nose.
For some reason, that one simple move makes me go all gooey inside. Now I just want to marry his stupid ass and have his stupid babies too while I’m at it. I am really way too easy. I should probably leave, but instead, I wrap my leg around him.
“What?” he asks, watching my face. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I say, reaching up to trace a line from his temple to his chin. “I just like you, I guess.”
“You do?” He smiles, like I just gave him a present or something.
“Yeah, I do.”
“I like you too, you know.”
My heart burns with happiness. “Is that so?”
“Yeah. That’s so.” He leans over so he’s lying on top of me, but he keeps his weight up on his forearms.
“How much do you like me?” I ask, feeling silly but still wanting to know the answer. I feel like I’m in second grade again. Check yes or no, Mick.
“A lot.” He nuzzles my shoulder.
“A lot?”
“Yeah. A lot, lot.”
I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him into me.
“I can’t breathe all that well,” he says, his voice muffled in my hair.
“That’s okay,” I say, sighing with happiness. “You don’t need to breathe right now. You just need to lie here and kiss me some more.”
“That’s going to be difficult if I suffocate,” he says. His hands move to tickle my ribs and I let him go immediately.
“Ohhhh, ho hoooo, is someone ticklish?” he asks, sounding way too excited about the prospect. He’s on his side now, moving his fingers from one of my ribs to the other and then up into my armpit with a feather-light touch.
I try to slap him away. “No. Stop. I’m not. I’m not.”
He grabs one of my hands and puts it above my head. “Keep this one here,” he says, his voice going serious.
I stare at him as he grabs my second hand. “And keep this one over here.”
I’m lying with my arms above me, pretend handcuffs holding me fast. I start breathing heavier with anticipation, anxious to see what’s going to be next. My lady parts are tingling.
“You have to keep your hands there until I give you permission to let them go.”
I squirm. I can’t help it. I even giggle a little. “What are you going to do?” I ask as my blood pressure spikes up. The anticipation is killing me. My voice is almost all breath. The expression on his face is pure devilry. I want to eat him alive, he’s so sexy.
He trails his finger around both of my nipples, first one and then the other. They stand at attention and beg to be sucked, but he just keeps moving his finger around. It goes up to my mouth where I suck it for a second before it trails downward. As he goes past my belly button and moves it lower into my folds again, he leans over and begins to lick my left nipple.
I gasp with pleasure. He’s only touching me in two spots with barely any pressure, but I’m going insane. I moan. “Mick, please...”