Walk Of Shame(91)

I thrust my hips upward, silently begging for him to lick me. He laughs against my throbbing clit before reaching up with one hand and grabbing my left breast. His dominance has me on the verge of explosion and I want to feel this to its full extent.

“I want to feel your tongue on me so damn bad,” I blurt out, thrusting my hips again to meet his mouth. “Remind me of how good it feels. Now.”

With a cocky smile, Hemy grips my ass with both hands and pulls my hips up to meet his face. Looking at me with pure heated desire, he runs his tongue, slowly and teasingly, up my wetness, causing me to shake uncontrollably in his arms.

He rubs circles around my clit with his tongue, before trailing it back down my folds and pushing it into my entrance. This causes me to wrap my legs around his head and squeeze. I can’t seem to get him close enough and he knows this. He knows my weakness and is using it against me to get me where he wants me. It’s working and I hate him for it.

The better it feels the angrier I seem to get, until finally, I growl out and pull away from him. At least, I try to. He catches my legs and pulls me off stage so that I’m straddling his narrow hips. With a smile, he walks us both up the stairs and up to the stage.

He stops in front of the pole, turns my back toward it, and presses me against it, breathing in my ear. “Hold on tight.” With little effort, he lifts me up, causing me to reach behind me and grip onto the pole at a higher level. Before I can wonder what he’s doing, he rests my thighs on his shoulders, grips my waist, and buries his face in my pussy.

His tongue works like magic, owning my pussy just like in the past. My whole body trembles from the heat of his mouth and the feel of his tongue tasting me, slowly and teasingly.

He reaches up with one hand and rubs his thumb over my clit, while working his tongue, rough and fast, speeding up to get me off. My grip on the pole tightens as he shoves his tongue back inside just in time for me to come.

I shake on his shoulders for a few seconds, high off the release of my orgasm. It feels so damn good I can almost cry in relief. Releasing the pole, he pulls me away from it and slowly lowers me down his body, kissing me in different places along the way. It doesn’t take much for him to lower me back down to my feet and press his body into mine.

Looking into my eyes, he cups my face and runs his tongue over his lips in satisfaction. “I want you back at my place tonight.” I shake my head, but he stops me by pressing his lips against mine, claiming my lips as his. The kiss is rough and possessive, and I can’t help but to get turned on again.

After a few moments pass, he pulls away from the kiss and turns to walk away without another word. My whole body screams for me to run after him, but I can’t. I’m stuck in place, trying to figure out how I let him take control of me again.

Screw this. I’m letting him know that he doesn’t control me. He hasn’t in a long time. He has no say whether or not I go to his place and stay with him. He lost that say years ago.

Making sure that I’m covered, I rush out of the room and walk down the dark hallway. I stop when I get to the main room and look around in search of him. It doesn’t take long to point him out. With Hemy looking as sexy as he is tonight, it’s hard to miss him.

He’s standing next to a table with another guy. I recognize him from Jade’s party. He’s one of the three strippers that danced that night. I recognize the black hair and tattoos. Realizing that he must be here to watch one of the girls, my gut tells me to get Hemy out of here.

He might assume I'm giving into him, but I'm really just trying to preserve my secret a bit longer. He seems different, but I'm still scared.

Clearing my head and coming down from my temporary high, I walk over to the table, stopping in between him and the other guy. I place my hand on Hemy’s chest and can’t help the moan that slips out of my mouth. Just touching him has me all worked up.

“Wait for me outside. I’ll go grab my things and meet you by your truck.”

Biting his bottom lip, he grabs both of my hands and runs them up his chest, before pulling them up to wrap around his neck. He presses his body flush with mine and gives me a hooded look. “I don’t have my truck. We’ll take my motorcycle.”

I smile at the memory of when the bike was his. After a while, he gave up on it and got a new one. I couldn’t leave without it, because it brought back too many memories. I needed it as my safety net. I needed it to fall back on when I missed him too much, so after I packed my things and left that night, I sent my brother to pick up it up from storage. I made it mine with the memories of him.

“You mean my bike?” Smirking, I turn around in his arms and walk away, making him release me. If I know Hemy still, he’ll be outside as soon as I’m out of sight.