Page 95 of Wife Number One

Hawk lifted my skirt, settling it around my hips and baring my naked flesh beneath.

He didn’t give me a chance to second-guess myself though. I let out a shout of ecstasy as his fingertips slid over my clit and then lower to the silky opening below.

“So fucking wet for me, Little Mouse. You’re such a good girl. I knew you would be. Tell me you want my fingers inside your sweet pussy.”

“Yes,” I groaned, pleading for more than what he’d given me so far. The feeling building inside was the same one I’d had this morning, the same one that had my breasts desperate and needy, aching to be touched.

Like he could read my mind, he issued his next demand. “Shirt off, Little Mouse. Bra too. I need to see those fucking tits. I’ve been thinking about them since you watched me come for you.”

I’d never heard a man talk like this. Never imagined I would like it.

But my body responded to every word. Every command. I didn’t know what I was doing, but his demands gave me guidance when I didn’t know what I needed. I pulled my shirt off, but he didn’t even give me a chance to do the same to my bra. He yanked the strap roughly down one shoulder and flipped the cup, letting one breast tumble free.

That was good enough.

He lowered his head, fitting his mouth over my nipple and sucked hard.

“Oh!” I gasped, fingers clutching the back of his head absentmindedly as he tongued the tip of my breast into a hardened, wet peak for his mouth.

At the same time, his finger pressed inside me and up against my inner walls.

My skirt around my middle covered my fat rolls, and I was grateful. It was bad enough he could see the cellulite on my thighs, but maybe it was dark enough in this room that he hadn’t noticed. Neither of us had turned a light on, and the sun had well and truly set since we’d been in here.

He pushed a second finger up inside me and rubbed his thumb over my clit. I cried out again, forgetting every concern because none could exist when he touched me like this.

“I need…” I muttered, except I didn’t know what I needed. Him. More. This feeling to never end because inside it, everything felt good. Nothing bad could touch me, as long as he just kept his fingers and tongue moving.

“You need to come, Little Mouse. You’re drowning my fingers.”

That didn’t seem like a good thing, and yet he said it in a way that gave me goosebumps. That made me want to be even wetter, just because he seemed to like it.

“He ever make you come, Mouse? He ever touch you like this?” Hawk practically purred.

I shook my head, grasping his shoulders, his T-shirt bunching in my fists. “No.”

Hawk chuckled into my breast, teasing the other from my bra. “You ever touch yourself like this?”

I gasped, “Of course not!”

Such things were not allowed. It let the Devil in.

Though apparently that wasn’t something I could consider when it was Hawk touching me.

He groaned into my breasts, his tongue tracing patterns around the swells and dipping in between. “So fucking soft. Come for me.”

He dropped his head down my body, bypassing the rolled-up skirt and licked between my legs.

My eyes flew open at the sensation, and my internal muscles clamped down hard. I shouted in surprise at the feel of him inside me, at him being there to stroke me from the inside out in a way that had my eyes rolling back. His tongue assaulted my clit, and some voice in the back of my mind said it was dirty and a sin, but I was completely helpless to make him stop.

I just wanted more.

My hips moved of their own accord, writhing against his face, his fingers buried so deep within my folds. I rode his fingers shamelessly, pleasure everywhere he touched and everywhere he didn’t.

The feeling slowly began to fade, and I stared at the ceiling, trying to catch my breath, my head spinning with dizzying thoughts I could barely make sense of.

I untangled my fingers from the short lengths of his hair, realizing I’d been twisting it in a way that had to have hurt him. Absentmindedly, because my head was still halfway between earth and the clouds, I changed the touch, stroking my fingers across his scalp instead, soothing the area I had to have damaged.

My chest heaved as I tried to catch my breath.

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