The Gun Runner(14)

“I’m going to tongue fuck you until you can’t walk,” he breathed into my ear.

Dear God.

The car door opened.

My legs buckled and I fell into my seat.

I was sure I wasn’t ready for the sexual voyage he was prepared to take me on, but I was more than willing to give it an honest try.

* * *

He pressed his hands against my inner thighs, spreading my legs apart a little more. With my mouth agape and my eyes afraid to observe—but incapable of turning away—I gazed past my bunched-up dress at the top of his head until I couldn’t watch any longer.

I closed my eyes.

We hadn’t even made it into my bedroom yet. Lying on the floor in the entry hall of my condo, I reached for the backs of my thighs and raised my ass from the floor slightly, forcing myself against his mouth.

His tongue circled my clit a few times and then licked me from bottom to top. He then worked his tongue in and out of me relentlessly. He hadn’t stretched the truth; he was going to tongue fuck me to an early death, and this was only the beginning. I held my eyes closed, and although I made no conscious effort to hold my breath, I’m certain I didn’t inhale once the entire time his tongue worked its magic.

I couldn’t.

While my body went into a series of convulsions, he pulled his tongue from inside me and licked my pussy—expertly. The tip of his tongue flicked against my sensitive nub each time, sending a shock through me like it was the last I’d ever have the opportunity to feel.

Darkness enveloped me. My ears rang.

He inserted a finger. Then another. And a third.

Holy. Fuck.

I arched my back and opened my mouth wide. A few spastic gulps of air later, and I was on the verge of climactic bliss.

He sucked my clit like a true trained professional. I wanted him to never stop, but I knew if he continued, I’d surely die right there in my entry hall. I released my thighs, relaxed against his mouth, and allowed him to continue with his talented tongue.

The simultaneous finger and tongue routine that followed sent me into an all-out state of orgasmic ecstasy.

I lasted all of five more seconds before bursting against his mouth.

“I’m. Going. To come,” I wailed.

I felt like it was the first time. In many respects, it was. Everything felt different. New. More climactic.

He raised his head. I opened my eyes. With his lower face glistening from my appreciation of his talent, he grinned. “Do it.”

His fingers continued to stretch me wide and his mouth fell to my clit. As soon as I felt him begin to suck my swollen button, everything within me involuntarily released and I cried out into the room.

My hips bucked against his face one last time. A tingling echoed between my clit and my nipples, causing my entire body to shake. At some point, everything stopped. Confused and flat on my back, I gazed up at the ceiling and wondered if I would ever be the same.

Ever.

Eventually, he raised his head and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. I did all that I was able. I spread my arms wide and my legs slightly, just like when I made snow angels on Christmas as a child.

Michael collapsed beside me. “What are you doing?”

I turned my head to the side. He did the same. Flat on our backs facing one another, we gazed in each other’s eyes and grinned.

“When I was a kid I used to make snow angels,” I explained. “I don’t know why everyone else makes them, but for me it was my way of showing God I was appreciative of everything he had provided me.”

His eyes shifted to my waist and slowly raised to meet mine again. “So what about now? What is this?”

I began to sweep my arms and legs back and forth. “Sex angel?”

“Because you’re appreciative?” he asked.

“Uh-huh.”

As Michael’s arms and legs followed suit, I turned my head to face the ceiling and closed my eyes.

Thank you.





Chapter Six

Michael

During the ten years I spent at war, I felt very little emotion short of fear, frustration and occasionally, anger. Since returning to the United States my feelings hadn’t changed much—until I met Terra. I had no real way of knowing why I felt the way I felt about her, at least not in a complete sense. For whatever reason, I felt comfortable in her presence. And, that comfort allowed me to accept her where I had rejected so many others.

I motioned toward the chair in front of my desk. “Have a seat, Cap.”

He sauntered toward it and sat down.

I picked a pencil up from my desk and began to twirl it between my fingers. “Are you still single?”

He threw his arms over the sides of the chair and rocked it onto the rear legs. “You know I am. Probably always will be, ‘least as long as I’m doing this, anyway. Why?”