Page 255 of The Trouble With Bad Boys

I knew what he intended to do, but not where. Or when. Easton lowered his head once more, then licked, suckled, and bit at my clit. He then raised his head and brought the vial of oil back to me. After dribbling a few drops on that same spot, I let out a cry. The heat was instantaneous as the burn seeped inward, infusing with the adrenaline already rushing through me. It heated more than that nerve-laden bud, and I closed my eyes to savor it.

They reopened almost immediately as he lowered his head again, then returned to what he’d started before. His mouth was wicked, and something that should be classified as a deadly weapon. Or at least one of them. By the time he replaced his tongue with three fingers. I could barely hold off on coming.

And he knew it, too. Easton went straight for my G-spot, but his earlier words came back to haunt me. He’d told me I couldn’t come without permission, and as he seemed intent on bringing me to the edge, I doubted he would let me fall off of it so easily. That suspicion was confirmed the moment my body tightened.

“Remember, no coming right now,” he warned me as he rose from between my thighs while keeping his fingers inside of me.

He was no longer rubbing me in the same spot, but the earlier damage had already been done. No matter how he touched me, my body was still on edge from his earlier attention. Our eyes stayed locked in on one another as he added a fourth finger, but this time I had to close my eyes. His eyes were so blue and deep, like the ocean I grew up near, and I’d drown myself in them if I stared too long.

It also helped me hold off on climaxing as my orgasm remained just out of reach. A single word would have me detonating, but when he lowered his head to my thighs, I knew he didn’t plan on saying it anytime soon. He nipped at the soft skin between my thighs, then kissed his way up one then down the other, much like I had done with my hands earlier.

“Easton,” I cried out the moment he snagged my clit with his teeth and gave it a sharp pull. “Fuck,” I added when he simply smiled against me, the very motion making me tingle.

Skilled was too mild of a word for how good this man was. Easton had proven to be everything I had dreamed he would be, and more. So much more. I arched toward him a time or two as he ravenously attacked my flesh all while thrusting those four fingers inside of me. Once or twice, I tightened down around those shuttling digits, but I didn’t give in to the orgasm I was desperate to have.

Eventually, he stood up to full height and I opened to eyes in question. He brought his thumb where his mouth had just been, and even it did little to ease the ache he’d created inside. I knew my eyes bespoke my needs, and it was likely why he was smirking the way he was.

He moved in a flash, and I watched as he brought the vial toward my breasts. The night before, he had heated one with the juices of a pepper, and now... “God, Easton,” I cried out the moment he dropped some oil onto the first, then the other. The small glass tube landed beside me, rolling against my side as he toyed with the nipple on one.

His fingers were just as lethal here as he rolled the tight peak between his thumb and index finger. Occasionally he would pinch it, but mostly just rolled it between his fingers leisurely. As he worked on that one, he lowered his head to my chest toward the other one. Easton’s breath tickled my skin, and at the exact moment he covered the aching tip with his warm mouth, he returned to my G-spot with his fingers.

“Easton,” I cried out, repeatedly as he drove me swiftly to the edge, then would stop just before letting me pitch over it.

It was agony... torture... and so fucking good. I might’ve even told him as much as he continued to work me up only to let me hover until I dropped before he started all over again, but no words came out of my mouth.

I was breathing heavily and writhing atop the table which seemed to please him immensely. “Feel it, Shelby. Ache for it. Ache for me.”

I wanted to assure him that I did, but again, I couldn’t find the words. It didn’t bother him because he moved from one breast to the other, alternating his earlier ministrations. Below, however, he was slowly working two fingers into my ass after he withdrew them from me, then slid them lower.

Anal sex was something I’d done a few times in the past, and it was something I’d gladly do with him if given the chance. With other lovers in the past, I was often denigrated for wanting what those same men called perverse. They expected me to lay there in the missionary position and do nothing more than exchange oral favors. I wanted more. I wanted to ride their cocks and feel them penetrate me everywhere. It was no wonder I used to have to watch porn after sex.

Something told me it wouldn’t be necessary with this man. It hadn’t been with the lover or two I’d had here at Syn in the past, either. Both of those men had been during the rebound period. I was now happily single, and I embraced the title rather than cried over it. That pain and the need to feel taken had led me to this place, and every experience before tonight had led me to...

“Easton,” I cried out once more as I found my voice again.

He had added a third and fourth finger to my ass, and I knew it was in preparation for something. What was revealed a few seconds later when he pulled away and walked back over to the same cabinet. He returned with a small rubber plug and wasted no time inserting it inside of me.

“How does that feel?” he asked me.

“So good,” I responded truthfully.

“That’s what I like to hear,” he told me, then reached over to untie the silken ties from my ankles.

Easton spent a few seconds rubbing the joints before moving to my wrists and doing the same. After, he helped me into a sitting position, and that was when the plug shifted. I groaned slightly as it wasn’t a position I was used to being in when using one. Granted this was only the third time I had used one, and two of the other times had been solo in my bedroom as I tried preparing myself to take a man there. It’d happened on my first scene at Syn, although I couldn’t even remember what else we did as all I could focus on was Easton.

“I think we have a front side to finish,” he told me after helping me to my feet.

He then took his place back on the table, and I couldn’t stop my mouth from watering as I looked over at him. His hand was on his cock, and I cleared my throat slightly. “I just need to get something from over there.”

I picked up the lavender oil and was glad I had decided to bring it with me. The scent of it helped promote relaxation and decrease anxiety which I needed in this moment. Still on edge from his earlier actions, I had to calm down and make this massage as good for him as the back side. If I calmed down, I would be less likely to jump onto the table and beg him to finish me off.

I smiled at the image that thought provoked, but quickly wiped it off my face when I realized he was watching me. Deciding to do as he’d asked me to do, I dribbled some of the oil down onto his legs, then started once more at his feet. I took my time moving up one leg and down the other before reaching back out for his cock.

It was long, hard, and thick in my hands, and very warm. I still used both hands to stroke him, and it pleased him immensely if his groans were any indication. I enjoyed bringing a man pleasure, and being here with Easton had topped my recent list of fantasies. It was almost surreal knowing that this was not a dream but reality.

My self esteem had taken a hit in recent months or years really if I was being honest with myself. I’d been made to feel like my desires were shameful and that my independence was a negative. The men I dated wanted me to be submissive to them in everything but the bedroom. There, I was supposed to lie still like a pillow, then go to sleep afterward. Syn was the complete opposite, and I was thriving mentally above all being here.

“Your hands are magic,” he told me as his words snapped me back to the present.

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