Page 93 of Mr. Wicked

I traced my tongue up and down her clit, going as low as her entrance, making sure that was nice and wet, before I returned to the highest point.

The top was where I focused.

And I didn’t go slow.

I didn’t savor.

I didn’t take my time.

I made up for all the days I hadn’t been down here, when I’d kissed only her mouth. When I’d lain in bed, thinking about this to the point where I had to jerk myself off in the shower while fantasizing about a moment identical to this one.

“Oh God!” she cried.

I’d missed that sound. The way her pleasure hit my ears. The way she screamed out an orgasm.

Just like the one that was about to happen now.

I could tell by the way her clit was hardening. How her grip was strengthening. How her wetness was thickening.

“Grayson!”

And there it was.

A response that made me feel like a fucking king.

The first shudder rippled through her stomach, and her legs threatened to cave in around my face. I wouldn’t let them, and I held them apart as I licked.

My tongue moved faster.

Harder.

Giving her the pressure I knew she needed.

“Fuck! Yes!” Her exhales were as sexy as her moans. “Grayson!” she shouted again.

As I continued to eat her, tasting her come, I stared up her wriggling body. I could see the tingles beating through her every time she rocked her hips forward, riding out each of the waves.

I waited until it all passed, when she was completely still, before I pulled my tongue away. “My fucking God,” I groaned, gazing at her pussy. “If I didn’t need you so badly, I’d do that again. And again.”

She moved her foot to my boxer briefs and rubbed her toes over my crown. “I want this.”

That was the hottest thing she could have ever said.

I pulled the tight cotton past my waist and shifted my weight to slide them off my legs.

“I’ve missed that.” She was eyeing my shaft.

“It’s about to be all yours.” Once I tossed the boxer briefs onto the floor, I realized I’d left my bedroom empty-handed. I’d been in such a rush to get to her, I’d forgotten one of the most important things. “Give me a second, I’ll be right back. I have to grab a condom.”

“You don’t need one.”

Her words were a shock to my system.

They even vibrated through my chest, repeating within me as though I needed to hear them again.

“What?” I pressed.

I always wore one.

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