Page 80 of Interception

I need at least a taste of her, my lips following the trail of my hands caressing between her thighs, and she doesn’t disappoint. She’s wet for me, which only makes her arousal on my tongue that much sweeter.

“Fuck, you taste so good. I’ve missed this.” I dart my tongue out to flick her clit, just the way she likes it, my hands braced on either side of her thighs.

“Oh God, Coop. Yes.” My name on her lips is a litany I’ve been starved of. I quicken my pace, lapping at her, enjoying her body once again.

“That’s it, beautiful. Let me hear you come.”

“Coop, open the drapes.” What? I know it’s been a while, but she’s lost her edge on the dirty talking. She’s usually such a dirty little minx, but whatever, I’m too turned on to care about dirty talk anyway. She could recite the phonebook to me right now, and I’d still be sporting a major boner.

I spread her legs wider, parting her lips, sliding my tongue from her entrance to her clit. “Like this? You like that?”

“What are you doing down there? I said open the drapes, not peel back my flaps.”

The penny drops.

“I thought you were using a euphemism. Opening the drapes. Your drapes.”

“Eww, no! In what universe is that sexy?”

“It’s not, but you feel amazing, and I don’t care if you say something ridiculous. I’m horny, and you’re hot.”

“I meant it literally. You said you wish you could see me. I’m not ready for lights, but some well-placed moonlight would be okay. When I said open the drapes, I meant the living room drapes.”

“Oh, thank God. It was by far the worst euphemism I’ve heard in my life.”

“Maybe we should just try this another day?”

“No! My balls are going to explode if we don’t do this now, and you were so close to getting some sweet release. If I killed the mood for sex, at least let me make you feel good.”

“Coop, open the drapes.” Her voice has taken on that sultry rasp I love so much. I jump to my feet and scramble over to the window, almost tearing the damn drapes off the pole. The second the soft moonlight hits her body, I’m left speechless.

“You’re so beautiful, Zoey Danford.”

“You’re not so bad yourself, champ. I’ve missed that beautiful big cock of yours. Get over here.” No arguments from me. I’m quick to get back between her legs, pulling out my A-game oral skills until she’s screaming my name and begging for me to fuck her.

It takes all my self-control not to slam into her. Slow and steady wins the race. I gently ease into her, but I can feel the tension in her body. “Are you okay?”

“Keep going.”

“If it’s hurting you, we can stop.” She’s wincing as I say it, and that can’t be a good sign.

“Maybe if we switch position? Doggy style. It will take the pressure off where I had stitches.” As I pull out long enough to let her move, I’m bereft. She’s so warm and inviting, my cock is aching for her. “Okay, try now.”

She’s on her knees, leaning over the ottoman, her perfectly plump ass looking so inviting. I ease back in, caressing her curves as I go. “Better?”

“Yes.” Thank you, Jesus.

I begin to move, circling my hips, careful not to be too rough. It’s not as easy as it sounds. With every forward thrust, the ottoman keeps moving. Fucking wheels! By the time I hit a steady rhythm, we’re almost on the other side of the room. I can’t get any purchase to get over the finish line.

“For fuck’s sake.”

“What’s wrong?”

“This furniture. I’m fucking you clear across the room. We need a damn bed.”

“Stand up.”

“What?”

---