The Bad Boy Wants Me(146)

‘Go on,’ she urged. ‘Don’t waste it. It’s good for my skin. Come on my face,’ she urged.

I hesitated.

She opened her delectable mouth wider in invitation and her hands moved. One hand pinched and teased her nipples and the other went down to her reddened, swollen pussy. I watched her very deliberately plunge her finger deep into her cunt and gasp with the sensation.

She stopped playing with her nipple and brought her hand to me. Leaning slightly forward, she placed her hand under my sac and caressed it gently. Her skin was like warm silk. My dick was stone hard and pointing towards her. Gently she pulled me closer towards her mouth until it was resting on her bottom lip.

‘Your cock is so thick and big I can barely wrap my mouth around it,’ she complained softly. With a devious smile, she widened her mouth and started suckling the helmet head for a few moments.

I felt myself tense.

She looked up at me with saucer eyes and said. ‘Go on then.’

My eyes moved from her half-open, waiting mouth to her finger jammed into her pussy.

I curled my palm around the base of my shaft and started to jack my cock with brutal speed and violence. Occasionally, the tip would brush against her lips sending jolts of electricity up my shaft and right up my spine. The only sound in the room was the sound of me frigging myself so hard my hand was a blur. The dam broke quickly, blood roared in my ears, and I felt the first, thick, hot burst of semen rush up my shaft. I watched it hit her face like a slap.

I saw her willingly open her mouth.

The first spray of white cream jetted onto her cheeks, the bridge of her nose, and sparked onto her long lashes. With both hands she pulled me into her open lips and sucked me hard while I came and came. Until she had emptied me and I was spent. I watched my semen spill from the corners of her mouth. She extended her tongue and lewdly licked her lips.

Then grinned wickedly.

I smeared the cream all over her face and neck, and worked until it was all absorbed and I was inside her skin. Then I untied her, gently lifted her into my arms and carried her up the grand staircase to my bedroom. I laid her down on the big four-poster where for centuries Greystokes’ had been bringing their conquests.

She looked up into my eyes.

‘I feel like a Princess in a Disney movie,’ she said in a hushed tone.

‘Princesses in Disney movies don’t have sex,’ I told her.

‘This one does,’ she said, taking my right hand and pushed the middle finger into her. God, she was slick and hot.

At that moment she was the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen.

‘Do you really enjoy eating my pussy?’ she whispered. She was not being sexy or seductive. She couldn’t believe that anyone could be as crazy about her pussy as I appeared to be.

‘Darlin’, I could eat your pussy for hours.’

‘Really?’ Her voice was breathy. My finger was still buried inside her.

‘Absolutely.’

‘What’s it like eating pussy?’ I noticed the generalization and smiled.

‘Some pussies taste and feel like oysters. No problems there, since I like oysters. Others taste salty and occasionally some taste sweet.’

I slowly slid my finger in and out of her pussy.

‘Do you want to know what your pussy tastes like?’

She nodded.

‘Eating your pussy is like sucking a peach. Not one of those plastic-covered, half-ripe ones you get on a Styrofoam tray at the supermarket, but one of those perfectly sun-ripened ones you pluck straight from the tree during the peak of summer in an orchard in a Mediterranean region. You bite into it and sweet juice pours down your chin so you have slurp and suck at it.’

Her eyes moved down.

I had another erection. My cock was pulsating. I exchanged my finger for my cock, and after she fell asleep from sheer exhaustion, I watched her sleep. I wished I could wrap her up in my arms and protect her from the hurt that was coming.

I slept very little that night and woke her up early on our wedding day with my tongue in her pussy and my cock in her mouth.





Chapter 27


Tawny Maxwell

‘Tell me what time the wedding is and I’ll pick a dress.’

-Chris Crocker

If my first marriage made me cry, my second filled me with such nerves that my whole body felt raw and jumpy. This would be the second time I was marrying for the wrong reasons. I had not wanted to marry Robert, but he begged me to. It was the only way, he said.

Of course, I would never tell anyone the real reason why I did it, but at least marrying him meant there was never any possibility of me getting hurt.

But marrying Ivan?

I could see nothing but confusing and painful problems ahead. I was also conscious that it was all moving too fast. Too intense. Too crazy. It was all right for him because his heart was not in it. I was just fun and sex to him. A temporary fling while he fulfilled a promise to his dying stepfather. I, on the other hand, was already hopelessly in love with him. To solve one problem, I had allowed myself to be persuaded into a solution that would almost undoubtedly cause me to end up heartbroken.