Page 70 of Don't Bang a Bandmate

Each sensual touch takes me further, and I feel myself squirming beneath him, my nerves running wild. I’m wet and throbbing, my body begging to be taken.

To betasted.

When Bronson finally kisses my clit, I release an overwhelming sigh. He licks me using the full length of his tongue, and I feel... I feel…

Fuck.

Bronson hums greedily. “You taste...amazing.”

He sucks on my clit, and I believe him. Fuck, I believe every word he says. Every nibble and taste leads to little grunts and groans. He eats me like he said he would, leaving no inch of flesh ignored, leaving me twitching and mewling in pleasure.

Intrusive thoughts tickle the edges of my mind, but it feels too good. Passion overwhelms my senses and my body reacts on its own. My entire core tightens with need and I shudder, his tongue circling my clit.

Time loses all meaning as I settle even deeper against the pillows. I ride the waves of pleasure; them coming and going as swiftly as his tongue can move. His deep grunts and sexy groans tickle my ears. And yet, still…

Is this taking too long?

Is he just faking it?

Is he counting the seconds until I finally tell him to just stop?

Behind the blindfold, I pinch my eyes closed. Suddenly, I hate this. I hate myself. I scold myself for wasting time, for doing this when I should do that. People count on me. Shouldn’t I be doing something productive right now? Something less selfish?

Fuck, I’m selfish.

Ugly, too.

I bet I taste wrong.

This is stupid.

I’mstupid.

I’m—

“Jordan.”Bronson’s voice cuts through the dark like a warm breeze. “What’s wrong?”

Spots burn into the back of my eyelids. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.

“I’m not.” He sucks lightly on me, but I don’t feel it anymore. “This is… so good.”

“Is it?” I ask, full of doubt.

“Take the blindfold off.”

I slide it up over my eyes. As I do, I see the outline of him between my legs. Bronson rises to his knees, showing me the stain in his grey sweatpants. A prominent, dark spot dripping along the stiff outline of his erection.

My mouth sags. “Did you come?” I ask.

“Yes,” Bronson says, his chest quivering. “You’re so fucking hot, Jordan. I couldn’t help it.”

My head shakes, but it’s hard to argue with that kind of proof. “Why?” I ask anyway.

Bronson chuckles. Without a word, he lowers back down and buries his face between my thighs. I almost stop him, but my body shudders with need. Pleasure curls around me again like a silk sheet, and I feel myself drifting again.

This time, I keep the blindfold loose about my forehead. I watch Bronson, his face bobbing, his mouth fully obscured. His eyes are closed, but I can still see the desire in his expression. He likes this. He wants this.

He likesme.

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