“I hope so,” I say.
Despite her protest, she straddles me on the ground without further objection. The fabric of her skirt falls around my face and tents me. She rises up on her knees, hovering over my mouth, her movements tentative as she pulls up the front of her skirt and peers between her legs at me. “Is this okay?”
Her hesitation makes me laugh. “Stop worrying, and wrap your lips around my cock.”
“God, you’re so crude.”
“I know you worship me, but really, you don’t need to refer to me as a deity,” I say, pulling her down onto my face before she can object. I enjoy the little squeal she lets out when my mouth covers her pussy. I lose myself in her taste, in the fact that she doesn’t do what I say immediately, doesn’t reach down and pull my cock out of my pants and wrap her lips around it. She sits up, riding my face, her hips grinding against me as I eat her.
I imagine what she looks like sitting on my face out here in the garden, her hands running over her breasts, her head tossed back so that her hair spills over her shoulders and down her back. The image of her riding me outside here, throwing yet another inhibition to the wind, makes me want to explode.
When she reaches between my legs, unzipping my pants and wrapping her fingers around my cock, I think I actually might explode at her touch.
Her mouth is like heaven. It’s warm and wet and she takes me in deeper than she has before, so deep that I swear I can’t go any farther. Then she pulls back, stroking the base of my cock and teasing me with an open mouth. The head of my cock hits her tongue. “Look at all that pre-cum,” she whispers.
I pull her away from my mouth so I can speak, knowing my warm breath on her pussy will only make her hotter. “I want to hear how much you love the taste.”
She laughs, pushing her pussy down onto my face to shut me up, and I eat her greedily. I thrust my tongue inside her until she’s bucking against me, beginning to lose control as she strokes me, her movements jerky. When she finally brings her tongue back to the head of my cock, she rolls it over and over, licking me.
Tasting me.
“I love the way it tastes,” she says, her voice husky. She rubs her finger on the head, massaging the tip before sliding her hand down the shaft. “You’re so full. Your balls are so heavy. I know you want to come. I want you to come for me.”
Fuck.
She wraps her lips around my cock, stroking me in short hard bursts as I devour her pussy. She’s not holding back any longer. All of her inhibitions are gone. Now, she fucks my face with abandon, grinding against me as I lick her clit, sucking even harder when I slide my fingers inside her pussy, one finger pressing against her asshole.
I can’t stop thinking about the filthy way she just talked to me.
I love the way it tastes.
I know you want to come.
She moans as she sucks me, her pussy swollen around my fingertips. I can’t hold back any longer. My balls clench tightly, and I let go, flooding her mouth. As soon as I do, I hear her scream her orgasm. The sound is muffled by my cock and she grinds her pussy against my face as she comes.
Afterward, she crawls away from my face on her hands and knees, looking over her shoulder at me as she straddles me with her legs on either side of my face. “What are you doing to me?”
The better question is what is Belle doing to me? This girl is consuming me, taking possession of everything I am.
And I think I like it.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Belle
I roll over. Albie’s naked chest is underneath me, and I'm still half-asleep as I listen to the beating of his heart underneath my ear. Mid-morning light streams through the windows in my room.
My bedroom.
Albie.
Shit.
“Oh my God, Albie,” I hiss, unable to hide the panic in my voice. I sit bolt upright in bed. “You need to get back to your room. You fell asleep in here last night.”
Albie groans as he rolls over and pulls me against his hardness. “Mmm-hmm,” he says. His fingers find their way down my stomach and between my legs. “Just five more minutes.”
“No,” I insist. “Seriously. Noah is going to realize you’re not in your room.”
“Killjoy,” he says, slapping me on the ass before he slides out of bed.
“We’re getting too comfortable,” I call to his retreating form as he disappears into the bathroom.
We’re getting way too comfortable, far too blatant in our sneaking around. It’s one thing to be hooking up the way we’ve been, but spending the night? That’s just dangerous.
It’s an unacceptable risk.
Albie ambles slowly across the bedroom to pick up his pants and shirt from the floor. He doesn’t appear the least bit concerned about being caught wearing the same clothes he wore yesterday, doing a royal walk of shame back to his room, even if it’s through the secret passageway. “You worry too much,” he says.