Page 69 of Mister Mom

The mixer stops and he swipes up a glob with his finger. He holds his finger in front of my mouth.

“Stop worrying about your figure. You could gain a few pounds and it wouldn’t affect your part.” He inches his finger closer.

I slowly stick my tongue out and curl it around the end of his finger, rimming the tip and enjoying the way his eyelids hood and his breath labors while my teeth scrape along the underside of his finger. Encasing my mouth over his entire finger, I suck off the icing, twirling my tongue around his finger while my eyes lock with his.

Once I let his finger go with a pop, his hands move to my ass and he slides me forward on the counter.

“Temptress.” His lips meet mine and our mouths collide in a fury, all our pent-up adrenaline of wanting each other all night finally finding an outlet.

His mouth moves off mine, but his hands grab the hem of my shirt and tear it from my body. His frantic motions continue as he unhooks my bra, letting it fall and eventually landing on the floor. He squeezes them a little more than is comfortable, but it’s exactly what I need.

“I’ve been half hard all day remembering you naked under me last night.” Without me saying anything, his hand slides up my legs under my skirt. “When you walked in with that skirt on I had to shift my stance.”

With every confession, my body grows hotter, my pussy wetter.

He motions for me to lift up a bit and he slides my pants to my ankles and I give a couple of kicks until they, too, fall to the floor.

He uses one finger to brush along the outside of my panties and my body loses all tension until I feel about the same consistency as the icing in the bowl beside me.

“God,” I sigh, my head falling back.

With one hand on my tit and the other on the outside lace of my panties, he teases me with his expert movements.

I want him. All of him. All of the time.

I’ve been starved of this kind of attention my entire life and I didn’t even know it until this man entered it. He’s turned me upside down. Nothing in my past compares to how he makes me feel. I thought I had an okay love life. I mean, Carver loved me. I know he did in his own way. But Vance, he’s like a bear outside a cabin, willing to claw his way through to me as though he’s going to explode if he can’t have me. As animalistic as that sounds, I love how much he wants me.

His finger slides between my pussy and my panties and his mouth opens slightly in awe.

“You like?” I ask.

Taking that half-hour lunch to get a wax job seems well worth listening to my stomach grumbling all afternoon.

“Fuck, yeah,” he growls.

He grabs my panties and tears them. Literally tears them from my body and tosses them on the floor.

“I don’t want anything in my way.” His lips find my neck and his nibbles turn to light bites.

“Those were new.” I don’t really care, I just like our push and pull.

“I’ll replace them. You can model new ones for me.”

See, this is what I’m talking about. He’s perfection.

His hand moves to cover my entire mound. His finger slides along my wetness. “I need to taste you.”

Gently pushing me so my back lies on the counter, he falls to his knees in front of me.

One flick of the tongue is all it takes for me to be on the edge of an orgasm. I knew waxing was going to make me more sensitive, but damn, I need to try to think of something other than his mouth on me so I can make this last.

“Shit,” I mumble, struggling for breath as he sucks my nub into his mouth. “Who taught you this? Because I’d like to give them an award.”

His laugh is muffled by my pussy and I thread my fingers through his hair to keep him in place.

He licks up and down, he sucks, he twirls his tongue and by the time I’m a screaming, writhing mess, a deep rumbling laugh comes from him and he leans back.

“Shit, I think you’re going to make me bald.” His hand instinctively moves to his scalp.

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