Page 124 of Roughing It

Hudson hooks a finger in the elastic of my panties and tugs, the soft material slipping down my thighs, stopping above my knees. Then his palm lands on my cheek with a loud smack. Heat and the sweet sting of pain bloom through me.

“I said count, Blakely.”

“O-one.”

“Good girl.” The words slip over me like silk.

The fast crack of skin on skin has me mewling out. “Two!”

“So fucking good. Three more.”

I whimper, trying to push into his touch and pull away.

“Nope, can’t go forward. Too close to the edge. Which is what got you here in the first place.”

“I thought calling youDad—”Spank number three lands, cutting off my tease with a whimper. My pussy clenches around nothing, and my nipples ache. “Th-three.”

Four and five come in quick succession, and no sooner than I count them does Hudson soothe away the sting, rubbing soft circles and kissing the warmth blossoming across my ass.

“Fuck. Need to taste you. Do you want that, Blakely? Do you want me to fuck you with my tongue until you’re putty in my hands?”

“Yes. Yes, please. Yes.” I chant.

Hudson buries his face into my pussy from behind, one arm locking around my thighs. The other snakes between my breasts, pulling the cups of my bra down, and toys with my nipples. He teases me this way, his licks shallow and light, and so not what I need.

Then I’m staring up at the sky, and my sore ass is on the ground. Hudson’s green eyes gleam as he plants sweet kisses on my ribcage and dips his tongue in my navel.

Goosebumps stipple my skin when he chuckles before nuzzling his mouth against my pussy. The nip he gives my clit has me clenching as two fingers plunge inside me.

His tongue strokes me—I swear he’s spelling his name—until my toes curl. Hudson adds pressure against my lower stomach, having learned it’s the fastest way to turn me into a mess, a feat he seems to prize himself on achieving.

As he licks and laps me into ecstasy-fueled oblivion, the fingers inside me twirl and inch deeper. A hot rumbling sensation against my overly sensitive clit makes me cry out.

“Fuck.”Hudson moans. Is there anything sexier?

Warm, coiled tension builds, and my muscles tense in anticipation. A third finger slips inside me, curling and curving, searching for that perfect spot, the one designed to bring me to the pinnacle. I wriggle out of my bra and pluck and twist my nipples until they throb.

Each stroke of Hudson’s fingers.

“That’s right.”

Each suck from his mouth.

“Give it to me.”

Each rumble from his throat.

“Drench me.”

The tension builds until, like a string wound too tight, I snap.

“Show me how much you love my tongue.”

Euphoric tidal waves crash over me, and I cry out his name. He’s a god—a benevolent, orgasm giving god.

Hudson nibbles my inner thigh, easing the beard burn he left behind, then crawls over me, claiming my lips. His tongue carries the flavor of my climax.

He breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against mine. “I love the way you taste. You have no idea what it does to me, seeing you come undone that way.”

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