Page 30 of Pawn

“You do the same!” She’s yelling now and we can’t have that. I need Jo to be calm and collected until this Marion thing blows over. Pulling the car over doesn’t get her to stop, though. No, she’s too fucking stubborn for that. Too easily riled up. “I don’t want to live with you because everywhere you go there’s trouble! We’re trouble! We killed your—”

I’m out of the car before she can finish that sentence. I know what we did, I don’t need to hear it again.

Opening the side of the door, she looks at me with those cat-shaped eyes. She tries again, “We—”

My palm over her mouth stops her from saying those words. The ones that’ll ruin what I’m about to do. Dropping to my knees, I take her face in my palms and I kiss her again. She murmurs against my lips for a second before her body softens, her hands coming to my shoulders.

Pulling her legs over to the side, she faces me, her eyes dazed and low.

“Wh—” My finger pushing in her mouth, against that warm tongue shuts her up again before I spread her legs with my elbow.

Her lips around my finger remind me of what she does with that tongue on my cock, swirling it over the tip. Pressing my fingers between her legs, my cock twitches in my slacks again. She’s already wet for me. She always is. No matter how hard she wants to fight it.

With a finger between her folds, the tip of her clit touches my index. Her sigh gets me harder as I spread her legs further, tugging her lacy thong down her long smooth legs.

“Did you wear these for me?” I ask, my lips sliding down those buttery smooth thighs. Warm and soft.

“Damien,” she sighs but hearing my name on her tongue makes me sink my teeth into her. I want to devour her whole. I plan on it, her warm skin like heaven on my tongue. She stammers, “W-we gotta talk about w-what happened.”

She’s not convincing, staring down at me with my head between her legs, that hazy look in her eye. When my eyes drop to her glistening pearl I growl, “I’m through talking, Medusa.”

Eight

Jo

Damien’s full of surprises.

This one? My favourite.

He’s on his knees on the side of the wintery road, my legs spread, my panties in his hand. He’s staring at my pussy like he’s won a pile of gold before he dives right in.

Instant, fucking, nirvana.

“God, why does that feel so good?” The words force out my lips with a sigh, Damien’s tongue running between my folds. When he swirls it on my clit it sends waves of toe-curling glory right through me. I don’t know what’s come over him, but there’s no stopping him now. Not when he moves his tongue like … that.

My hand flies to the headrest, gripping onto the leather seat while he laps at my hole like a thirsty animal. “Damien!” I don’t want him to stop. God knows I don’t but we need to talk about this. “We need to—”

My thong comes to my mouth, balled up in his hand and he forces it in. It gets me to shut up and if I needed an excuse to lay back and enjoy this, then this is it.

“You taste so good, Jo,” he groans before his fingers push inside me, the lace in my mouth muffling my moan. It makes him moan too, a groan vibrating against my legs, between my folds. I’m rocking against his face and with a hand moving under my ass, he locks me on his tongue.

“All for me,” he growls.

He’s been there enough to know what to do and when he curls those fingers, “Mmmmmf!” I wanna scream but my gagged mouth stops my noises, my body shaking and writhing with his touch.

The stars blur together when my eyes spring open, an orgasm hitting me like a tidal wave but he doesn’t let up. I reach for his head, bucking against his mouth but he grabs my wrists moving his hand from under my ass, keeping me in place.

The trees behind him look like a water painting when my eyes blur again, head spinning as he forces another orgasm from my core. Then another.

I’m a sputtering mess when he pulls my thong from my mouth. FInally coming up for air, his chin drips with my juices and god he looks so, fucking, hot. His cheeks flush with redness, face wet, that smirk on his lips like he’s impressed with how he devoured me. I’m breathless, unable to say a thing before he lets me go, turning me around in my seat and closing the door.

“What the fuck,” I whisper, blinking at the dash, stunned, body still tingling from that orgasm.

He’s quiet when he gets back in and starts the car, finally wiping his mouth with the side of his palm. With my head hitting the backrest, I’m exhausted, albeit calmer and I’m starting to wonder if that’s why he did that.

Did he think he’d be off the hook that easy?

Smirking, he leans over the console separating us, a finger under my chin. That small touch sends another post-orgasmic shiver shooting right through me.

---