Most Valuable Playboy(58)

“Please.”

I push them off, and my cock springs free, jutting out.

Her jaw falls open. “Are you for real?”

A smile tugs on my lips. “Pretty sure I am.”

“Oh my God,” she groans as she stares at me. “You have the most perfect dick.”

I bend to her, and run my finger across her top lip. “You have the most perfect filthy mouth for such a good, sweet girl.”

I grip my dick, running my fist up and down my length. I close my eyes, shuddering, because it feels really fucking good to get some action, even with my hand, the only body part that’s touched my dick in months. But for the first time in all that time, I have an audience. I’m not alone. I stand by the head of her bed, and I stroke my cock mere inches from her face. She writhes, twisting onto her side as she moans my name.

It sounds like pure porn on her tongue.

I run my left hand along my chest, over a nipple, pinching it as she stares. Then down between my legs, gripping my balls, which are heavy and aching.

She moans as I stroke and tug. I moan, too. Then I let go, so I can get on the bed. I straddle her, clamping my hands on her hips.

“Are you going to . . .”

I shake my head. “No. I’m not going to fuck you tonight. I’m going to come on you. Like you wanted.”

“Oh, Jesus.”

I move up her, kneeling over her stomach, so I can fuck my fist as she stares.

“Feels so much better when you watch me do this,” I groan as I stroke from base to tip and back.

Lust surges inside me, barreling down my spine as I devour her with my eyes. My God, she’s so stunning, all curvy, sexy, and soft.

Her gaze never strays. She watches with a wild abandon, her amber eyes glossy with desire that matches mine. She nibbles on the corner of her lips, so hungry, so greedy. And I can’t wait. I need to know how her lips taste on my dick.

“Kiss the tip,” I whisper hoarsely.

She nods savagely, and I shift forward, planting a palm on the mattress by her outstretched arm as I rub the head of my dick across her lips.

She darts her tongue out instantly, flicking it over the head, and I growl in pleasure. A drop of liquid beads at the tip, and she licks it up greedily. Her eyes are hooded as if she’s savoring my taste. She opens her lips more, trying to entice me to fuck her mouth. Desire nearly strangles me. It practically lassos all my restraint to the ground. But I stay in control, fucking her with my words, instead. “You want to suck me off, baby?”

“You know I do.”

I rub the head over her top lip, loving—fucking loving—her tongue on me. “I want your mouth on me so bad, Vi,” I tell her as I keep up my pace, gripping my fist tighter as I stroke my shaft.

“Let me,” she begs.

Another drop of my arousal spills from my dick onto her lips, and her tongue hunts it out instantly, lapping it up. I rub the head against her bottom lip. She flicks her tongue out once more, and I’d really like to feel her all over me. That’s my cue to pull away from her far-too-tempting mouth.

“Don’t go,” she says in a sexy, needy whimper as I move down her body.

“I’m right here.” I settle above her pussy, my hand working my cock, stroking, tugging, driving her wild. Driving myself wild.

My muscles tighten everywhere. Tension expands inside me, overtaking me with a wicked intensity as I jerk harder, faster.

I’m all for masturbating. I’m all for pleasure. Orgasms of every variety rock, including solo flights. And while I’m dying for her to get me off, this will do just fine for now.

This will do more than fine.

Because pleasure consumes me. It camps out in my body, fills me completely as I shuttle my fist tighter, rasping out, “Where do you want me to come, baby?”

“My tits, my belly, my face, anywhere.”

“Oh fuck,” I groan, closing my eyes as my world burns white-hot and everything blurs into the pleasure that shoots down my spine, climbs up my thighs, obliterates all my senses as my body jerks and I come on her stomach. All the fuck over her beautiful, sexy, soft belly.

I groan her name, getting out only the first, seductive syllable. “Vi,” I grunt as I squeeze the last drops onto her skin.

My shoulders shake, and when I finally get a grip on reality, I find she’s breathing hard, panting, lifting her hips, and staring at the evidence of my pleasure on her body. She murmurs my name as if it’s all she’s ever wanted to say.

Her voice goes to my head. Sinks into my heart. Reminds me that I’m in so deep.

I try to clear my head. I tell myself to focus on the here and now. On my job this second. “Let me clean you up,” I say, then I climb off her and head to her bathroom. I grab a washcloth, wet a corner with warm water, and return to erase my orgasm from her skin. I find the laundry basket in the corner, filled with her clothes, and I drop the washcloth on top and shoot her a naughty grin. “Thanks for letting me come on you.”