I hear a smile in her tone.
“The hog?”
“The mechanical pig under the sink that eats anything you throw at it.”
My hands sink down to cup her plump butt. It feels perfect in my palms. “That’s definitely something my pretty little silly ass would say.”
Her shoulders shake with her silent laughter. After a minute, she rears her head back to look at me. “Of course I saved you some supper. Are you hungry?”
“A little, but I’d rather stay in bed with you than eat.”
“Why choose when you can have both?”
I barely manage to stifle a groan. “Good point. Now take your panties off, sweetness, and I’ll make a meal out of your mouth-watering pussy.”
“I was thinking maybe you’d grab some snacks from the pantry, and we’d have a picnic in bed.” She reaches under the blankets and begins to remove her bottoms. “But I like your idea better.”
Throwing the covers off us, I pile them at the foot of the bed. “Take your top off too, sugar bear. I want to watch you play with your nipples while I enjoy my meal.”
Happily between her thighs, I go to work, lapping at her center and driving her rapidly into a frenzy. I know exactly what she likes, and bringing her to the edge never gets old.
As I suck and nibble on her clit, she suddenly grabs my head with both hands and threads her fingers into my short hair to buck up into my mouth.
Although I fucking love when she shoves my face into her pussy, I ordered her to play with her tits. She’s been testing me recently, and I think this is one of those times.
I pin her with a sharp glare. Well, as sharp as I can, considering how worried I was about her all night. “Didn’t I tell you to play with your breasts?”
Wearing a sneaky grin, she removes her hands from my hair and wiggles her fingers in front of me before slowly cupping her breasts. There’s a challenging glint in her eye that I recognize immediately. She’s going to remove her hands the second I look away.
Keeping her locked in my stare, I return my tongue to her clit, slowly building her back up. Her eyes flutter closed, and she pulses her hips in tiny circles.
“That’s my good girl,” I mumble against her core.
When I slip two fingers inside her silky channel and start pumping, she reaches for the headboard with one hand and grabs my head with the other.
I stop immediately, drawing a huff of protest from her.
She rolls her lower lip into a pronounced pout. “I want to touch you while you’re down there. Please, babe. Let me play with your hair. It’ll help me come faster if I can connect with you more.”
“Who said I wanted you to come faster? This isn’t fast food. You’re a gourmet meal that’s meant to be savored. Now keep teasing your nipples, or I’ll tie your hands to the headboard.”
She complies, but that taunting glint is still there.Brat behavior.
Although it’s not my specialty, she needs taming sometimes. Not that a brat can ever truly be tamed. More like handled.
When she lets go of her nipples for the third time — like I knew she would — I get up without a word to search for something to use as an improvised restraint.
My belt.
I need to bring some ropes over here.
Grabbing my belt and my shirt from the floor, I return to the bed and straddle her waist. “Cross your wrists and hold them up for me.”
With an even bigger pout than before, she complies. I fashion a cuff-like restraint using a figure-8 pattern with my belt and slip it over her hands. Once it’s secured to her lower forearms, I watch her skin carefully for any color change.
I tap her fingertips one at a time. “Feel this?”
“Yes.”