Page 79 of Winning Bid

He suckles on my clit, knowing what that does to me. I thought I was aching for his cock before, but it was nothing compared to this. As much as I’d like to switch things up and bounce on his dick for a while, he can’t hear me, and I can’t pull away. I’m stuck like this until he changes things, and knowing that I’m helpless to his whims only turns me on more.

His tongue should be insured for a million or more. It’s worth every penny on the planet. Pleasure ratchets up in my belly as he drinks me down. If he keeps this up, I might drown him. I’m kinda glad he can’t hear me right now because the sounds coming out of me are choked and beastly. Not the sexy gasping sounds I normally make. This is something straight out of the primal part of my soul because he’s being such an animal.

The plug only makes things better. I almost regret every other time I’ve been eaten out because I wasn’t wearing a plug then. It’s like all those nerve endings have been waiting for exactly this and are finally happy. It’s making me pant like a dog in heat, and I grip the couch arm as my climax hits.

This is like nothing I’ve ever felt. It’s world-ending.

My head tosses back when I scream out my ecstasy, only to then feel every muscle lock tight, sending my head forward as my whole body curls in on itself. Muscles thrash in my skin while heat and bliss tear through me. I am at his mercy as one orgasm triggers another. He grips my hips tighter, locking his strong arms around my ass to keep me in place. He growls on my clit, and that forces me to come again, only this time, I can’t stop from grinding against his tongue for more. I need it. More pressure there, more of his attention, more of his love. All of it.

I want everything!

I hump down onto his face, gliding back and forth. His nose sweeps against my clit, while his tongue dips into me. His day’s stubble burns my delicate skin, and I don’t fucking care. I need it all! Every sensation. The pleasure, the pain. It’s not enough. It could never be enough because none of it is his cock.

“Anderson, fuck me!” I order.

But his sounds are garbled by my bits.

With regret, I lift up as much as I can so I can hear him. “Baby, I need you to fuck me!”

Instead, he turns us ninety degrees, giving me the back of the couch to hang onto. It forces me to sit up more on his face, which must give him more support because then he slides a finger into my pussy. Oh fuck!

I grab the back of the couch, bracing for dear life as he finger-bangs me while still mauling my clit. He strokes my G-spot to sparks, and I can’t stop or slow down. He’s forcing me to come on him again. It radiates from my belly, washing over every inch of my skin like a cool breeze on a sizzling hot day.

And then it feels like that sizzling hot day is inside of me.

I screech it out, heat escaping my lungs as I burst from the pleasure. It’s too much for my body to contain. Too good and hot and excruciatingly perfect. I can’t take much more of this, and I want to take it all. I want to weather whatever Anderson wants to give me. For him and for me. This man has taken me to the brink of madness time and time again, and I’d take it all over again if it meant I got to keep him. To be his forever.

To be in this moment forever.

When it’s finally over, I have no words. No strength. There is nothing left of the woman I was. Only this weakened jelly form, half bent over the back of the couch. Anderson carefully removes himself from me without hurting me or, by some miracle, himself. He must have grabbed a towel or used his shirt, because by the time he shows up in front of my face, his is relatively dry again. He kneels in front of me with such a boldly smug grin on his face that I’m sure he’s about to say something in Assholese.

“Are you in there?”

All I can do is try to laugh and gently shake my head. Words … well, they feel optional at this point.

“I’ll get you some water. And a straw.”

I don’t mind the view from this angle. Mostly, I get to watch his butt in his lounge pants, and that’s always a good show. I’m going to have to get him to take me to the gym and show me what he does to have such an exquisite rear.

When he turns, I have a view of his erection, stretching the front of his lounge pants, and damn, that makes my mouth water. I’m sure he could fuck my face at this angle. And right now, I’d beg him to if I had any saliva left in my mouth. Because he’s the best man ever, he feeds me the straw, not expecting me to be able to lift my head.

Unfortunately, drinking with my head almost upside down means the water goes out my nose instead of down my throat.

Choking shoots a little life into my body, but only a little. I’m able to sit up on my own, and I drink half the water once I can breathe again. Once that’s done, though, I’m a limp noodle. Anderson puts his arm around my shoulders, trying to help me sit up. He nuzzles against my ear and murmurs, “That was so much fun, and we’re just getting started.”

40

JUNE

“Just getting started?” Oh yeah. He hasn’t come yet. Where is my head? I can’t think clearly. When he scoots closer to me, the couch sinks in his direction, and I feel why I can’t think clearly. The plug. It’s still in place.

Anderson nuzzles against the shell of my ear. He growls in my ear, “I have plans for that body of yours. Can you walk?”

A rush of heat flushes through me, residuals from what we just did and from what his primordial growl promises. But I’m still weak from his mouth all over me. “I … I don’t think I can.”

“Well, then.” He stands up, then bends, scooping beneath me to carry me. Every bouncing step makes the plug shift inside of me, and it stirs up all kinds of feelings. Trepidation, lust, the need to see how far I can push myself tonight.

But I’m still wrung out from all those orgasms, and I laugh. “Anderson, watch your step!”

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