My hips buck on their own, desperate to get closer to him as his tongue slides into me. I squeeze my eyes shut, my shame battling lust. But still, I don’t shy away from him. I’m too turned on to think straight. And I want this. I want him. So much that it hurts.
“Watch me,” he growls, his voice low and throaty. My eyes snap open. A satisfied Gibson hums his approval, sending tiny vibrations pulsing through me as a slight sweat breaks out along my skin. He presses his thumb above my entrance as his tongue continues to push into me. Slowly at first before picking up his pace as the flutters of pleasure quicken.
“I’m going to…” I swallow and throw my head back, tangling my fingers in his hair as he sucks on my nub and pushes two fingers inside of me. It’s official. I’ve never felt so good in my entire life.
“I’m gonna come,” I breathe. “I’m gonna come.”
He adds a little more pressure, pumping his fingers in and out in rhythm with his mouth and pushing me closer and closer to the edge.
I’m so close.
“Gibson,” I mouth, my voice absent.
Then he bites, and a silent scream rips out of me. My fingers scrape against the brick wall as I try to keep myself from falling off the other side, but Gibson’s firm grip holds me in place, allowing me to let go. So, I do. Like a firework, I explode, tingles spreading from my core and out to my fingers and toes as wave after wave of euphoria crashes into me.
Holy. Freaking. Crap.
Heart racing, I try to savor the feeling, but it still ends far too quickly and leaves me desperate for more. More orgasms. More touching. More Gibson––if he isn’t done with me yet.
When the prickles that started at my sex and spread to my limbs begin to subside, I catch my breath and look down at him. His smile is cocky as he licks his lips, his chin glistening in the pale moonlight before he stands up and cups the ridge in his pants.
I gulp.
There’s a ridge.
In his pants.
And I kind of want to touch it.
I’ve never been in this situation before. I don’t know what to do. Or what to say. Or how he might expect me to reciprocate. I open my mouth but shut it just as quickly.
That same arrogant grin toys with me as he towers over me and nudges himself between my thighs. “Dove––”
His phone blares, and he drops his head back in disappointment before digging it out of his pocket.
“It’s Fen,” he mutters to me. Answering the call, he barks, “Where are you?”
“Dove. She’s gone.” Fender’s voice is muffled but panicked.
Gibson looks down at me, his eyes flinty and dark, though I’m not sure if it’s because of what we did or if it’s because he’s pissed at his brother for being so careless.
“I only left her for like ten minutes, man,” Fen continues. “No one’s seen her. She’s not where I left her, Sonny––”
“I have her.”
“You came? Sonny, I swear––”
“You’re a selfish asshole, Fen,” Gibson growls.
“Look, I made a mistake––”
“You can screw up your life all you want, Fen, but when you promise to look after someone, you don’t bring them to your dealer’s future house and disappear to get high and hook up with someone. That’s a new low. Even for you.”
“Sonny––”
He shakes his head, his frustration coming back with a vengeance as he squeezes the back of his neck and seethes, “I don’t want to hear your excuses right now, Fen.”
“But where is she? Let me talk to her––”