Page 56 of Those Two Words

“Okay,” he croons. I jolt when he grazes my pussy through the damp material of my underwear with his knuckles. With my jeans locking my legs together, it’s a tight fit for his hand, but he’s nothing if not attentive. I don’t question him when he gently removes my boots. That care is such a contrast to the way he yanks my jeans and panties down to my ankles, freeing one foot. The moment my feet are firmly on the ground, that commanding tone returns. “Now open those legs nice and wide for me. I never got a taste last time, and I need my fill.”

Leaning forward and balancing on my forearms, I spread my legs wide. The way I’m standing in front of him, completely bare but for the rumpled corset around my waist, is so lewd. It’s obscene.

And I love every second of it.

I crave his touch. I’m desperate for him to feed the hunger pulsing through my veins and between my slick thighs. There’s no doubt he can see how much I want him. When he palms my cheeks to pull them apart, I’m completely at his mercy, bent over a pool table, half-naked, ready to be worshipped by him.

“Fuck, you’re as beautiful as I remember,” he murmurs into the crease where my ass and thigh meet. His tongue run leisurely across my skin, and being blind to his next move only intensifies the pleasure. “I have always wondered how you taste. Thought about it every time I wrapped my hand around my cock. Did you think of me when you touched this pretty pussy, love?”

“Every time.”

“Right answer,” he growls.

We’re done with words now.

His mouth moves to where I need him the most, and I fall forward, the felt rough against my nipples. All inhibitions fall away when he reaches my soaking entrance. I try to gain purchase on anything but come up short. His tongue circles around my center languidly, and I muffle my cries into my arm, while my other hand darts backward to clutch to the soft strands of his hair. Groaning in appreciation, he moves to my clit and sucks on it before circling it with the tip of his tongue. Over and over, he does that. Ecstasy fills my veins, and my legs threaten to buckle, and they probably would if the firm grip he has on my ass wasn’t keeping me upright.

“More. God. There. Harder,” I cry out, and I don’t have to ask twice. He’s everywhere at once. Licking, biting, sucking, nipping. Building me up higher and higher, I might be out of this atmosphere. I’m so close, my orgasm is cresting, but something is missing. My whining and wriggling must tell him that.

“I remember what you need. Don’t be afraid to ask for it. I’ll always give it to you.” And does he ever, because two thick fingers slide into me from behind and slowly pump in and out. I’m dripping down my thighs, I’m so wet. The fullness of his fingers and the attention he’s giving my clit makes me delirious, but I’d kill to feel the fullness of his cock gliding into me instead. To experience that again. We might have spent years apart and only one night together, but this man knows exactly how to play my body.

When he turns his wrist and crooks his fingers inside of me, my hand shoots out, the balls from our forgotten lesson ricocheting against each other. Black spots float in my vision as I chase my orgasm, bringing my hips back in time with the thrust of his fingers. The slap of his palm meeting my skin and the cries from my lips echo off the walls.

“God, you should see how you look right now. Your tight, pink pussy is gripping on to my fingers so hard. Keep fucking my hand like that, baby. Find it.” He rewards me with faster and deeper thrusts of his fingers. “Do you want to come?”

I turn my head and try to look at him, but from this angle, it’s difficult. I nod my head frantically anyway. “Yes, Patrick. Please.”

“Please what?” He removes his fingers and I cry out in frustration.

“God, you’re so ann—” SMACK.

“Please what, Johanna?”

Oh. My. God. He just spanked me. He spanked me, and it pushed me closer to the edge of the cliff I’m ready to fall from. He soothes the sting with a kiss, leaving me delirious from the sweet torture. I want to come, but I also love this game we’re playing.

I bite my lip to stop the plea escaping them, and when another sharp slap finds my other cheek, my head falls forward onto the felt, groaning from the mix of pain and pleasure.

“If you don’t answer me, I’ll leave you bent over this pool table without giving your greedy cunt exactly what it wants. What’ll it be?”

I don’t want to test whether he’ll be true to his words. “Come. I want to come. Please, Patrick,” I beg, pushing my hips back to show how eager I am for him.

“Okay.” And then he’s on me. Spreading me wide open again and licking me from bottom to top. One of his hands leaves my ass and moves to my front, where his fingers find my clit, wet from my pleasure and his mouth, and he starts massaging in tight, small circles.

I’m so close. Wound so tight, I could break in half. The pressure low in my belly is building, and the tingle at the base of my spine tells me I’m close to shattering.

And I do.

Because the second his tongue comes to my center and the pressure on my clit increases, I snap.

I fall.

I scream.

The orgasm rips through me, sending shockwaves from my core to every cell that makes up my very being.

Patrick doesn’t let up until the aftershocks stop, even when I protest that I’m too sensitive. With a kiss at the base of my spine, he removes his fingers and stands, but I still feel him close behind me.

I’m too spent to turn around and look at him, still folded over the table like a lawn chair. When he helps me into my underwear, jeans, and boots, my heart increases in tempo again.

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