Page 34 of To Catch A Rook

I caught the barest flicker of surprise in her eyes, but she recovered so fast a less trained person would have missed it.

Good. She could play with me all she wanted; I was a willing participant if it meant I could have a sweet taste of her perfect wet cunt.

The lengths I was willing to go for a job. Such sacrifices.

Hillary slowly picked herself off of the couch, revealing the delicate nuances of her outfit. Small but perky breasts, large nipples I couldn’t wait to suck on, wide hips I could grab as I fucked her hard and fast. Round ass cheeks I’d bite until they were marked as mine.

She wasn’t just trim, she was toned. Muscular, for a small woman, even if she was one of those bloody annoying health nuts.

When she took the pegger and lube out of my hands, I caught a whiff of delicate perfume. Jasmine and... rose. Expensive and enticing.

“Take your pants off.”

No one could say I wasn’t a dedicated man on a mission. I was about to have a silicon cock up my arse to keep up my pretense, but if getting fucked by a beautiful woman was a sacrifice I’d have to make, call me a goat and throw me on the altar.

Fill me up, Blondie.

I tilted my head up to stare into those baby blues and sank deeper into the couch, opening my arms wide across the back of it. “Take them off for me.”

She tutted disapprovingly but I matched her stare, ready to play her games, but not as her hand puppet. She set the toys on the table in front of her and moved into my space, placing her hands on either side of my neck. Her soft fingers lay warm against my skin.

“I had a feeling you were going to be difficult, Lucky.”

I snorted—there was no chance this woman took home patsies to play with.

She rested her thighs on either side of mine, and pushed upward to press her breasts into my face. I mouthed at one nipple through the pink lace, tasting the salt of her skin through the fabric. She shuddered against me and I moved to the other breast, soaking the mound with my tongue.

“Lucky for you, I like difficult men.” She dropped her weight into my lap and ground her clit against the solid steel of my shaft. We groaned together and her soft pants against my ear spurred me into a frenzy. I grasped her waist tightly to stop her from grinding against me again.

“I’d rather you come on my tongue, Blondie. Don’t waste that sweet sticky mess on my jeans.”

I nipped the bottom of her earlobe, kissing the underside of her jaw and moving to the sensitive patch of muscle at the base of her neck to her shoulder. I latched my tongue over the spot and sucked hard, still holding her in place against me. She wriggled, trying to get some friction, but my hold was too strong. I smiled against her skin when she moaned a satisfying combination of lust and frustration.

“Take them off for me,” I repeated. Shifting her off my lap and depositing her on the cushion beside me, I stood. My cock pushed painfully against my zipper. I pulled up the hem of my Henley. I tapped the metal button at the stitching on my jeans.

“Start here.”

Her eyes blazed, but she obeyed. I swallowed a chuckle and watched her take her sweet time unbuttoning and unzipping my pants. She shucked them down my legs, along with my boxers in one go. My cock sprung free, hovering in the small space between us.

I’d had to settle into some pretty compromising positions to get a job done—once with a 300-pound Russian man who thankfully liked to be tied up—but I’d neverenjoyedmyself this much in the process.

My Celtic goddess, Epona, got the shout out tonight, but so did the greedy git who’d hired me.

“A taste for a taste?” I palmed my erection and spread the pre-cum drop on the cupid’s bow of her lips. She licked the wee bead off with her tongue, and it stirred the mangy mutt inside me.

“You can rail me as hard as you want, Blondie, but I’m having a taste of your cunt before you do.”

I kicked my pants behind the coffee table, then knelt in front of her. Dragging her hips toward me, the sharp, sweet smell of her arousal hit me like a wave and made my mouth water.

I snapped the tiny lace strap of her thong with a well-placed tug and buried my face between her thighs, spearing my tongue into her slick cunt. Even her pre-cum tasted rich—as if high-tiered geneticists had created a sweeter cocktail—I was drinking her elixir until there was nothing left.

I ate her with enthusiasm and years of practice, my lips and tongue pulling every depraved sound from her mouth like she was made for sexual conquest. I moved to her clit, sucking rapidly until her thighs tightened around my ears and her whole body stiffened as she let out a cry that made my dick want to shed its tears and release.

I wiped my mouth against her soft flesh and left a small bite before moving again to stand. I pulled my Henley over my head. Body fully naked, my weeping cock begged for attention.

Her dazed gaze only lasted seconds before she rolled to the side and off the couch faster than I would have given her credit. She reached for the toys on the table and pushed me, face forward, into the back of the couch.

“Your turn.”

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