Page 150 of A Little Tempting

I hang my head in amusement until the familiar click of a bedroom door closing makes my blood flow south.

I wait, counting down the seconds. Once the last minute is up, I take the stairs two at a time, not bothering to knock as I push my bedroom door open. And there, in the middle of the bed, is the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen in nothing but a jersey. My jersey. With my name scrawled across the back.

“So?” she asks. “What do you think?”

“I think I’ve never seen anything sexier.”

She grins. “And I think I like you, Oliver Reeves. I think I like you a lot.”

“I like you, too, Pickles.”

She bites back her grin and shakes her head. “Pretty sure I’ll never be able to eat a pickle again without thinking of you.”

“But only the big pickles, right?” I lift my hands, leaving a foot of space between the two. “Like a reallybigpickle.”

With a laugh, she says, “Shut up.”

“I’m just saying?—”

“You’re the only pickle I’ve had, so, technically, I can’t compare the size, thank you very much.”

The reminder that I’m her first, her only, makes my chest swell with pride. I don’t care about the number, but rather how she trusted me enough to give me a chance she’s never given anyone else.

Striding toward the edge of the bed, I climb on top of her, and she leans back, staring up at me. “I think we should keep it that way, don’t you?”

“I think, as of right now, you have nothing to worry about, Ollie.”

“And I think you’re the only taco I ever want to eat again.” I nip at her pouty lips, tasting her smile. “Ever.”

With a very unladylike snort, she pulls back and repeats, “Taco? Really?”

“What would you prefer I call it?” My hand slips between her thighs, and I start playing with her entrance, drawing small circles in her heat as she shifts on the bed, making more room for my hand between her pretty little thighs. She isn’t wearing underwear, which might be my favorite surprise of the day.

“Call it whatever you want,” she whimpers. “Just don’t stop what you’re doing.”

A low laugh escapes me as I continue fingering her on my bed, the jersey riding up and showcasing the prettiest goosebumps racing along her pale, silky skin. Realizing she might be cold, I tug my comforter around us to keep her warm while continuing my assault. When her eyelids flutter, she grabs my wrist and rides me.

“Fuck, this feels so good,” she whimpers.

Slowly, I kiss down her body, the sheets rustling as I slip beneath them. Her nipples are stiff little peaks, and I pop the left one into my mouth, sucking on the hard bud as she fumbles with my belt and shoves my pants down my thighs. Blindly, she reaches for my dick, rubbing her thumb along the head and pinning me between her hand and her thigh, spreading my precum along her silky skin.

“I like feeling you on me,” she whispers. “On my skin. Like you’re marking me.”

“All you gotta do is ask, baby. I’ll cover you with my cum any time you want.”

She lets out a breathless laugh, letting me go. “Figured you’d be happy to oblige. But first, I think you should eat my taco, don’t you?”

“Someone’s needy.”

“Hey, you made me this way. I didn’t know what I was missing with this thing, remember?” She drags her thumb along my bottom lip, then pushes me further down her body. I like it, though. I like it a lot. The way she trusts me enough to tell me what she wants and how she wants it. The girl who moved in next door wouldn’t have. She wouldn’t have wanted to inconvenience me. Little does she know, I fucking live for this, and if I died right here, buried between her thighs, it’d be worth it, and you could mark my tombstone with, “Happiest Man to Ever Live.”

Her little gasps of pleasure mingle with the sound of her wet pussy as I pump my fingers in and out over and over while trailing open-mouthed kisses along her stomach and lower to the apex of her thighs. Spreading her folds, I replace my hand with my mouth, anxious to please her. To make her come. To make her mine again and again for as long as she’ll have me. She’s hot and wet and needy, and exactly how I like her as she lets her thighs fall open even more. Playing with the little divots between her thighs and pussy, I flick my tongue inside her, and she moans. Fuck, I love her moan. How it’s breathy and needy and so damn quiet. Like she’s holding back. Like she’s afraid of letting go, and every time she does, it makes me feel like the luckiest bastard in the world. When her fingers find my hair, I know she’s already close, her hips lifting and writhing and rolling as I French kiss her core.

“So sweet,” I groan.

“And so close.” She brings my mouth back to her. “Keep going.”

I smile against her pussy, then suck her clit into my mouth. Her muscles tighten with pleasure as she comes against my tongue, her body arching off the bed and her thighs squeezing the sides of my head. She’s nothing but goo as I drag her to the edge of the bed. Flipping her over, I take her from behind, lining up the head of my dick with her dripping entrance and pushing into her. It’s as if she was made for me. Her tight, wet heat. Her creamy skin. Her muffled groans getting lost in my sheets. She grabs the fabric with her hands while meeting me thrust for thrust, and my blood flows further south.

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