Page 35 of Pretty Broken Promises

I reach behind my back and unclasp my bra. With the tip of my finger I slowly slide the strap down my arm. Ford’s eyes are glued to the show, but I hold the cups in place with my other arm until both straps are free. I lift the lacy material away, holding it between my index finger and thumb, and let it drop.

His fingers flex on the headboard, and I know it's taking great effort not to reach out and touch me. I have to stretch across his big body, until I'm closer to his face. Ford licks his lips, and I think he knows where I'm going with this. “How about you use your mouth instead?”

My headboard makes a loud creaking sound, and I'm afraid he might crack the wood. This isn't cheap, pressed particleboard either.

“Would you like to touch me?”

“Please,” he begs.

I look into his eyes and drop the playful expression for just a moment. “I stay on top, okay?”

“Whatever you need,” he whispers.

“Right now what I need is for you to grope my tits and suck my nipples,” I say, and I don't know where this brash confidence is coming from.

“Holy shit, that is the hottest fucking thing I've ever heard come out of your mouth,” he growls.

Taking orders seems to be getting easier for him, because he wastes no time following this one.

He's less cautious with me, and he enthusiastically kneads my flesh like he used to. Holding on, he guides one into his mouth. He seeks payback for what I did to him earlier by swirling his tongue around my nipple, drawing it into a tight peak. When he’s teased it into an over-sensitized bundle of nerves he bites down and stretches. There’s a slight sting, but just the right amount where your body can’t tell if it’s feeling pleasure or pain. He increases the sensation by sucking hard, and it makes my core clench and feel empty.

I whimper, needing to be filled, but not wanting him to stop. He pays attention to my other breast, and the ache in my pussy makes me nearly feral.

“What do you want me to do, baby? Just say the words. Especially if they're dirty.”

“I can't decide if I want to suck your cock more or if I want your tongue in my pussy,” I answer him. I wonder if Carol slipped whiskey in my coffee, but I think I'm actually just drunk on Ford.

It’s the spicy scent of his skin and the smooth feel of it over the steel of his muscles. The odd mix of familiarity and excitement swirling in my stomach. He always makes my head spin, but right now I feel like I'm flying.

“Am I dead? This is how I pictured heaven,” he says, interrupting my wandering thoughts.

I swat at his chest. “I was actually being serious.”

He just groans in response, then exhales a puff of air. “Let me ask you then. Are you planning on riding my cock? Because my recovery time isn’t bad, but I won't last if you put your lips around me.”

I pout. “I feel like you're taking away my favorite toy.”

His hands slide up and down my thighs while his thumbs apply pressure up toward my mound. With each pass they get closer until he’s brushing against the edge of my panties. “I was a little afraid that it would be hard for me to hand over any control, but I think you may have just unlocked a new kink for me. Being used by you as a toy, it seems I am so down for that. If blowing me means that much to you, you can do it whenever you want to.”

I know he's teasing me, but I'm not kidding. I think I'm developing a little bit of an obsession with his dick. Part of it is knowing that I'm the one who can turn this beautiful man into a puddle of lust. It just does something to me. Or maybe it's all that time I've had to watch other girls chasing after him and pretending like I was fine with our fuck buddy arrangement. This time I am the one who can touch him whenever I want, and all those other bitches can die jealous.

“I suppose my oral fixation can wait until later,” I tease him.

I feel his chest vibrate, and a primal rumbling sound comes from him. “Mine can’t,” he says. Then his big hands slide under my hips, and he lifts me up and props me over his face.

“You're still in charge, but let me take care of you for a couple of minutes,” he says against my mound, then nibbles his way down to my fabric-covered clit.

“Only a couple of minutes?” I jokingly complain.

“I'll eat you until you come all over my face, and then I will lick you clean. Does that make it better?” he amends.

A shiver runs through my body. “Much,” I answer breathily.

“Hold onto the headboard, Vixen. By the way, you don’t really like these underwear, do you?”

“Yeah, why?” I ask confused.

His hands grab one side of the material and rip it apart. Then he does it again on the other side. Now I'm bared to him, and nothing is between us. “I’ll get you new ones. There was no way I was letting you move unless you're rocking back and forth on my face. The underwear are replaceable.”

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