Page 28 of Hung Up

A powerful finger slipped under the fabric and my hips jumped at the unexpected touch. It dipped inside of me only once before he brought it to his lips, sucking my arousal off of his finger.

“You know, I’ve heard it’s better to drink from the source. And didn’t you say you were thirsty?” My argument was weak. I just needed his tongue on me. In me.

Pierce chuckled, and the sound reverberated against my cunt. I moaned at the pleasure, the spell he unintentionally cast over me.

“By all means, then,” he whispered before easily tearing the thong off. His eyes turned crazed for a moment, before his mouth covered my pussy. His tongue fucked me and he greedily swallowed my arousal.

A thumb reached up to strum my clit, and the tandem movements sent me tumbling down that road to orgasm.

I moaned loudly before turning my face into my pillow to muffle my noises.

A smack on my pussy had me crying out, looking to Pierce as he stared at me with heated passion.

“Let me hear you, love.”

I was nothing if not a puppet under his command.

My hips rolled into his face, reminding him of his task, and he chuckled darkly before diving back into me. I no longer tried to mute myself, crying out with each stroke of his tongue, each rub of a finger . . .

Pierce took me to that edge a few times, backing off the moment I almost crashed over. His understanding of my body and what it needed was nothing short of masterful.

Pierce doubled down on my clit, licking the hardened bud as fast as he could. The strum coupled with the fingers plunging inside of me had my legs shaking as I tried to hold onto reality.

“Harper,” Pierce murmured. His voice was smooth and sinful, like the most complex of dark chocolates.

“This is your mouth to fuck, darling.” His fingers hooked my G-spot, hitting it over and over with each pass. “Come on your mouth, love.”

Sweat beaded along the nape of my neck, as stars danced behind my eyes.

“So . . . fucking . . . come . . . on . . . it . . .”

Each word was followed by a powerful thrust of his hand, the heel of his palm grinding into my clit.

Lining up to the edge of the cliff, my hand flew to his silky waves as I held on for dear life.

That was, until a shrill ringing broke through the haze of my arousal. I frantically looked at the clock on my bedside table. 7:30 pm.

Shit.

It was time for Ethan’s call.

My phone kept ringing and I lunged over my bed, fishing through my bag on the floor to find my phone.

My heart pounded as I answered the call. The almost-orgasm teetered away but remained close by as I made eye contact with Pierce, raising one singular brow in a silent question. He nodded his head, a gleam to his face that hadn’t been there before, before stepping off the bed and out of the room.

“Hi, baby,” I said sensually. “How’s my darling?”

“Hi, Harper. I’m doing okay.” Ethan was always shy and took a few minutes to warm up.

“How was your stress today, darling?” I coaxed him gently with my words, letting him fall into our call gently.

“It was pretty high, ma’am.” His breath hitched at the title. Ethan preferred when I gauged his day and then walked—talked, rather—him through a relaxation routine. He liked having me make his decisions, choosing how and when he came.

I really enjoyed my calls with him. There was something about that control that really got my blood rushing, too.

My pussy still fluttered, seeping slick onto the bed as Pierce returned, the bag from the sex store in his hands. He walked into the bathroom and I heard a box rip open and the faucet running.

“Aw, you poor thing. You had a bad day?”

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