Once Upon A Half-Time 1(57)

That wasn’t me.

I held a power over this woman when her legs were spread and that soft little slit was exposed to me. I dove for Elle, burying my face within that dark secret of hers. One good lap with my tongue, and I had her for my own.

Back arched.

Hands in my hair.

My name on her lips.

She was so easy to please, and such a tasty treat. Her silken folds opened to me, and I plunged my tongue as deeply inside as I could get. She bucked against the intrusion, but not in a bad way. No. She arched to get closer. To feel more. To be licked.

Eaten.

Devoured.

And it’d be my pleasure…as well as hers.

“Lachlan…” Elle’s voice already trembled. I sucked her clit to hear the rest of her words waver. “Maybe we should talk?”

“Not polite to talk with my mouth full.”

I made a point of it though, so she’d hear how slurred and wet my words were. She shuddered in the vulgarity of it all. That made it fun, watching her writhe and squirm.

Best part of the day.

“But you were upset,” she said.

I nibbled her clit. “Better now.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Her words gasped. “On the field…?”

I was nose-to-clit in a beautiful pussy, slurping up her cream just so she’d make more, and she wanted to talk about the team? I wasn’t letting anything kill this hard-on.

“Don’t worry, Red.” I planted a kiss on her swollen nub. “I’m working the kinks out.”

“But it’s been a few weeks.”

“A few weeks of mindless drills.” I sucked on her. “The same plays.” I licked. “With the same players. I can’t concentrate if I’m bored.” I looked at her, grinning, knowing full well how messy my mouth was. “Wait until I get on the field. You’ll see.”

She nodded, raising her hips. I blew across her heated slit.

“But I…” She bit her lip. “I was…”

“Worried about me?”

“What can I say, Charming? You got under my skin.”

“No. I got into your panties.”

And to prove it, I lunged for her again. My mouth sealed over her clit, and I earned every frantic breath and pleaded mew that ached from her throat. She gripped the couch, my hair, her own breasts.

I had her.

Of course I did.

She was so easy to get off—a little sucking, quick licking, and a grateful prayer that a woman like her would give me the honor of tasting her velvet slit. Her body convulsed and pussy slickened with a rewarded, honeyed sweet cream.

She came, and I grabbed her hips to pulled her closer to my mouth. I might have loved to watch her shiver and twitch, but I didn’t need to see her face. I had the best view in the house, and I thanked her with another quick flick of my tongue within her core.

Elle groaned. Her words slurred into a single cry of pleasure, and she pushed me off of her to breathe.

Silly girl. No one pulled a hunter off of his prey.

“God, Lachlan…” She sunk into the couch. “Are you sure you don’t want this to be our third date? I’d do anything you wanted to right now.”

“Oh, you’ll do that anyway.” I stroked her clit with a finger, laughing as she groaned. “But that date is going to be pure magic. I gotta make you fall in love with me after all.”

“And what will you do once you have me?”

“I won’t need to do anything. My life will be complete.”

She wiggled her hips, but I got her to smile. “I know it’s just a line, but I like hearing it.”

“It’s not a line. I mean every word of it.”

“Charming, you can’t say those things.”

“Even if they’re true?”

“Especially if they’re true. I have no defense against you.”

“You never needed one.”

She regained too much strength. One orgasm wearing off meant that it was time for another. And another after that. Then another. I wasn’t stopping until I had her weakened, shuddering, groaning, and completely and totally spent under me.

And then I’d do it again.

“You know…I’m glad you came over. I’m feeling better already.” She nibbled on her fingernail as I repositioned her hips. “Maybe we should have other unofficial dates? More often?”

I grinned, hunkering down between her legs.

“No need to plan anything yet, Red.” I nibbled her clit once more. “Tonight’s just getting started.”





13





Elle





I was going to be sick.

I wasn’t even stuck in the sun this time. The nerves knotted my stomach, and I raced for the nearest bathroom.

And…I missed the porcelain bullseye. That wasn’t pleasant. To my credit, I didn’t get sick on the field, even if Sean deserved some swift, chunky retribution. We had no need for another vomit spiral passing through the team. Ironfield did not have iron stomachs.