Page 9 of Polished Off

“Then that means we’ve been dating for a really long time already.” Jill’s watching me like an entomologist studies a bug under a magnifying glass.

Biting my tongue to hold back my smile has earns me a coppery taste in my mouth. It’s worth it to watch her work through what she wants to say. I’d never pressure her to move at any speed other than whatever speed feels right, but fuck if I haven’t been hoping she won’t ask to take things slow.

Slow’s the only way we’ve taken things for years. So damn slow that, half the time, it feels as if my fucking balls will atrophy and kill me.

I nod, agreeing with her proclamation we’ve been dating for ages. She rewards me for confirming her realization by tipping forward from her chair to land in my lap, her long legs straddling over my thighs where I’m kneeling in front of her.

“Since we’ve been dating for so long, does that mean I’m your girlfriend?” Jill’s being sassy, her words and movements taking on a flirtatiousness that’s brand new between us.

“Girlfriend? I’d say you’re more than that, baby. Not sure you’re ready to hear how much more, though.” It’s a strain to string together a sentence with her warm center pressing down against the part of me that’s currently hogging all the blood I need to think.

“Maybe, we can get to that later. What I really want to know right now is…” Her hips swivel over me, and her smile is deviously sensual. She leans forward until her plush lips are nuzzled against my ear to whisper my deepest wish come true. “Since we’ve been dating for so long, do I have girlfriend privileges?”

Chapter

Eleven

JILL

From my perch on his lap, I feel every twitch and shiver that goes through Tate’s body, and it makes me feel powerful. Like a sensual goddess in control of every pleasurable sensation shared between us.

“Is that what you want?” he asks.

I let my hips grind down over his swollen ridge beneath me. The hard pipe of his erection sends lightning bolts of fire from my toes to my scalp where it pushes the seam of my jeans into my needy pussy.

“Yes!” I gasp, the sharp desire nearly robbing me of the ability to manage even the simple syllable.

He pulls my face to his, capturing my lips in a kiss that’s every bit as much a claim as his words have been. Our tongues stroke along each other as they push and pull back and forth from his mouth to mine, until the need for air forces us apart.

“Hold on tight, baby.” If anyone else called me baby it would feel trite and unsexy, but I can’t get enough of the simple pet name from Tate.

I wrap my arms around his shoulders and my legs around his waist as he rises from the floor as easily as if I wasn’t clinging to him like Saran Wrap. I expected him to carry me down the hallway I know leads to his bedroom, but he surprises me.

Once on his feet, he pulls my legs from around his waist and unclasps my arms from his neck. His eyes meet mine, and I feel the way he watches me. He’s looking for something, probing inside me for an answer.

“To be clear, you’re giving yourself to me, right now. Once I make you mine, you’re mine for good. Mine to own. To worship. To fuck and to pleasure however I see fit.”

Somehow, this feels like a whole new Tate. His primal intensity has me feeling like prey. Words fail me in the face of his possessive dominance, so unlike the best friend I’ve known all this time. I nod, my voice stuck behind the massive boulder of lust lodged in my throat.

Tate steadies me on my feet before spinning me to face the table. He steps behind me and nudges a foot between mine until my feet are wide enough he can stand between them. His pelvis pushes against my ass, the split of my cheeks a perfect cradle for the granite-hard cock that feels big enough to split me in two. His back drapes over mine until he’s pressed my chest to the table, his arms reaching to catch my hands and stretch them out in front of me.

“Hold on to the edge of the table. Don’t let go.”

“Or what?” I guess I can still manage to find sassy words.

“Don’t tempt me to show you what naughty girls who don’t obey get, baby. Trust me when I tell you, you want to be my good girl, right now.” Menacing power gives his threat a sinister tone. A breathy moan floats through the quiet of the kitchen, and I’m shocked when I realize it’s mine.

Tate eases up from my back, trusting me to remain stretched out over the table with my hands white knuckling the far edge. One of his hands works around my waist to tear at the button and zipper of my jeans while his other hand slips under my T-shirt to unhook my bra.

The instant my pants are unfastened, he tugs and pulls until my pants and panties are lowered to my knees. It’s the farthest down they can go with my legs still spread open by his between them. My backside is bared to his gaze, and even without being able to see his face, I feel the weight of his stare.

He’s got a front row seat to the way my pussy peeks from between my spread thighs, my back entrance visible in the bright light of the kitchen. The realization of everything he sees brings an embarrassed blush to my face. I shift my weight from one foot to the other, erotic shame making my empty core clench helplessly.

“Fuckin’ beautiful, Jill baby. Not even my fantasies could prepare me for this flawless cunt.” His dirty talk is filthy and would make me turn me red if I wasn’t already fluorescent red from the position he’s got me in.

“Tate!” I moan. I can’t help it. I need. No idea what specifically I need. Just that I need.

“Don’t whine, sweetheart. I’m going to take care of you. But first, you’re going to be my good girl and give me what I need.”

---