Page 68 of Sincerely, Your Enemy

TJ smirks.

Then he’s slipping his hand up my dress without a warning and running his fingertips across my lace panties—which are soaked, the way they always are when we’re alone.

He fills the remaining distance between us and rasps against my mouth, “Baby, you already are.”

I intend to argue, but my protests die on my tongue when he claims my mouth again, trapping my lip between his teeth and tugging a little harder than he should.

Fuck, I can’t even deny it. I do ache for him. I want every sensation, every emotion, every high this guy can give me.

It quickly becomes clear that unlike the last time TJ had his hand up my dress, he has no intention of leaving me unsatisfied. His thumb slowly traces up and down my pussy. Once. Twice.

Then he’s reaching inside my underwear and sliding his fingers between my drenched pussy lips. His index barely grazes my clit, but I still buck forward, my mouth falling open.

He makes a guttural sound in satisfaction. “Look at you. So fucking needy. Christ, I can’t wait to fuck you sore.”

Oh my God. This is going to be the best bad decision I’ve ever made.

“Get these off,” TJ commands, and I don’t waste a second, guiding my underwear down my legs. “How many of my fingers do you think can fit in your pussy? One? Two?”

He seems dead set on finding out because he’s pushing a finger inside me the next second.

“TJ!”

He doesn’t answer, stretching me further and locating my clit with his thumb.

“Fuck, rich girl, you’re taking it so well.” He starts to pump his fingers in and out of me, rubbing my already swollen clit in slow circles. His other hand shifts to the straps of my sundress. “As much as I love the dress, it needs to go.Now.”

My first reflex is to try and reach the zipper on my back, but of course, Mr. Impatient isn’t having it. He pulls his fingers out of me and yanks the fabric down my chest, almost tearing it down the middle. I’m wearing a red bralette underneath, and TJ immediately jerks it down, too, his mouth wrapping around my left nipple as soon as my breasts are exposed.

He stops to stare at them for a short moment, and it hits me that this is the first time anyone’s seen my breasts in a while. It may be dark in this shed, but it’s not dark enough to hide the look of pure admiration on his face.

My heart skips a beat when he voices his opinion with a quiet “Fucking hell.”

Next, he removes my dress and panties, and then his mouth is back on my nipple, teasing, nibbling until I’m arching my backand gripping the back of his head. His other hand immediately joins in, cupping both my breasts as he transitions to my other nipple and gives it all his attention.

“Everything about you is perfect, you hear me? You’re unreal,” he comments before twirling his tongue around the arched peak of my nipple over and over.

The pressure between my legs is unbearable by the time I pull a complete guy move and press down on his head to guide him to my pussy. It makes him smirk, and he doesn’t hesitate to grant my request, dropping to his knees in front of me.

“Good girl. Show me what you want.”

I think he may be trying to kill me with his dirty mouth.

He starts by spreading my pussy lips with two of his fingers to get a good look at me, and I feel like I should hide or something. Like it’s not right for someone to see me in such a raw, vulnerable position, but TJ doesn’t let my self-doubts pick up any more steam, groaning as he swipes his tongue across my clit slowly.

But he doesn’t stop there. His fingers quickly regain their position by my entrance, teasing until I’m bucking my hips again, desperate to feel him all the way. Not once does his tongue leave my clit, and I grip his hair harder, frustration growing in my gut.

“Pull my hair all you fucking want. I’m not giving it to you until you beg.”

My head hits the wall behind me, and I let out a whimper.

“Beg me to fill that tight little hole with my fingers, rich girl.”

“Yes, yes. Just put them in,” I cave.

His tongue draws a long circle around my clit, never actually touching the sensitive nub requiring attention.

“I don’t hear begging.” He makes it a point to blow the last of my sanity to pieces.

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