Page 57 of Fire

“Blake.” She tried to protest—she really did—but then one hand left her ass and entered the leg of her panties, his finger finding her clit without fumbling, and she moaned instead.

“I take it back. I like how short this skirt is.”

His teeth found her earlobe, nipping then soothing it with his tongue before trailing that same tongue along the shell of her ear.

“My dick is throbbing to be inside you.”

God, she was going to come. She was on the brink. A little more pressure and she’d be there. He must have sensed that because he ripped his hand away, spinning her from the elevator and carrying her across the expanse of the living room.

Stopping at the back of the couch, he dropped her to her feet, turning her to face it. He pushed her between shoulder blades, and her hands flew out to catch herself on the seat cushions as she fell forward, the back of the couch digging into her stomach.

Cold air hit the backs of her thighs as he flipped her skirt up. “You’re very lucky you’re wearing shorts under this skirt.”

She was, cute boy-short panties in pink, stretch cotton with a thick, brighter pink band of lace around the waist and thighs.

“You don’t need them anymore though.”

The material slid down her legs, stopping at her ankles.

“Lift.” He tapped her right ankle, and she raised her foot as he worked the leg of her panties over her shoe. He didn’t bother removing the other leg, just left them dangling around her ankle.

She felt his hands then, slowly—oh, so slowly—sliding up the length of her legs, stopping only when he reached the underside of her ass. His thumbs brushed the inside of her thighs, so close to her center she wanted to weep. Wanted to beg him to move them up an inch.

“Spread your legs wider.”

And then she got his thumbs, lightly brushing the lips of her sex. Her stomach spasmed, and she dropped her head, her face hitting the back of the couch. Agonizing minutes went by with him doing nothing but those feather-light touches. She spread her legs a little wider and was rewarded with the touch of his tongue. But she soon found that more torturous than his teasing digits.

He licked through her folds, stopping when he reached her nub, pressing on it with the tip of his tongue.

It wasn’t enough. She needed more. Wanted him to fill her completely. Feel the stretch as he entered her. The hard glide of his cock as he moved in and out.

She spread her legs a little wider, pressed her face into the cushion, and moaned.

He picked up the pace with his tongue, flicking it over her clit. Taking her higher but not letting her spiral down. Her fingers clawed at the seat cushions, but she couldn’t get a firm grasp on the overstuffed fabric.

And then his tongue was gone, and she cried out because even that little bit of torture was better than nothing.

Hot breath bounced off the cushion and hit her in the face as a sigh escaped her lungs when his head nudged her entrance. Strong hands gripped her hips as he slid home.

“Fuck, you feel good wrapped around my dick. Hot. Tight. So fucking tight, you’re choking it.”

Losing her breath as he slammed into her, she couldn’t respond. Not that she wanted to, too busy savoring the push and pull of his cock as it hit all her nerves, building them to a point where if she didn’t come soon, she’d cry. She was so close, and she whimpered because it felt so good.

“Do that again.” He slammed into her harder, and she did, a moan leaving her throat.

His hand left her hip, and she saw in her periphery as it landed on the cushion beside her head. His heat hit her back as he leaned over her, filling her even deeper. His lips brushed her shoulder as he stayed planted grinding against her ass.

“I could worship you,” he whispered so softly, she almost thought she imagined it.

Her orgasm hit her like a shockwave, starting at her center and growing stronger as wave after wave rippled through her body. She cried out, lifting her head and throwing it back. Blake’s mouth was there to meet hers and capture her screams.

She floated as he pounded into her, his movements growing erratic until he stilled, shuddering against her back.

A moment passed while they caught their breath then he slid out of her, saying, “Don’t move.”

She wasn’t sure she could even if she wanted to. Her body was spent, her muscles lax, and her brain fogged.

Running water sounded from the kitchen, and a minute later, a wet cloth was placed between her legs. Tapping her right ankle, he told her to lift, and he worked her panties back over her foot and pulled them up her legs until he helped her stand so he could maneuver them back into the proper place.

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