Page 47 of Steel

“Fuckin’ beautiful,” I mutter, leaning back to watch, as I continue to glide my fingers in and out of her.

Once there’s nothing more than a few drips leaking from her cunt and she’s giving quiet little whimpers as her hips chase my fingers, I pull them out of her and bring them to my mouth.

The moment her taste bursts across my tongue, I groan with wicked delight. “Sweetest fuckin’ thing I’ve ever tasted, baby girl.”

Releasing my hold on her neck, I help pull her shirt over her head, another groan leaving me when her perky tits bounce free. I cup the luscious globes in my hands and drop my mouth to them, sucking in a pebbled nipple. After toying and teasing with that one, I move to the other and suck it deep, twirling my tongue around it before pulling away with one last nip.

“Don’t think there’s a part of your body I don’t love,” I mutter, dropping her tits and reaching behind my head to grab the back of my shirt.

Bailee rests against the back of the couch and watches me through hooded eyes, her tongue sneaking out occasionally to swipe across her lips as if she’s dying to peek at what’s hidden beneath. She chooses to get impatient and reaches out to undo my jeans. Any other time, I’d enjoy the hell out of her impatience, but the moment her hand brushes my dick, a coldness shoots to my core.

Not thinking, my hand snaps out and anchors around her wrist tighter than normal. “I didn’t give you permission to touch me.”

Her eyes widen, but she isn’t scared, her trust that I won’t physically harm her on purpose absolute.

I finish pulling my shirt over my head and look at her with wicked eyes and a carnal smile. Dropping a quick kiss on her lips, I grab her other hand in mine and carefully flip her around. I snag my shirt with my teeth so I can free up both hands and gather hers at the base of her back, crossing them at the wrists. Using my shirt as a restraint, I weave it around her wrists and in between her hands before tying the ends together and pulling them snuggly, making sure she can’t get out unless I choose to release her.

Leaning down, I lick a trail from where her hands are crossed at the top of her ass up the base of her spine, leaving sharp little bites and suckles along the way. Her skin breaks out in goosebumps, and her hips undulate against the couch as her ass brushes against the thick bulge behind my jeans.

“Jericho,” she whines.

I sink my teeth into the skin of her neck as I slide one hand between us to reach my jeans. The heat of her pussy scorches my skin as I work the button and zipper loose. Bailee rubs against the couch, trying to find some relief to the ache that’s built up inside her again.

My neck heats in pleasure as I watch the bottom half of her dance over the faux leather, working her pussy but still not finding the amount of friction she’s searching for.

Releasing my hold on her restrained hands, I drop my palm against her ass cheek, the crack echoing through the living room. I love the way the globe bounces and turns a pretty shade of pink with my handprint. “Keep grindin’ that cunt against the couch. You stop, you don’t get a release. Understood?” When she doesn’t answer me, I lie across her back, my hard cock snuggled against her ass. I’m careful of her injury as I curl one hand around the front of her to reach her throat and lift her head until my lips brush her ear. “Said, am I fuckin’ understood?”

My lips latch onto the skin of her neck and suck it into my mouth until I’m satisfied that my claim of ownership is left behind.

“Yes, bossman. Keep moving until you tell me to stop,” she says breathlessly.

“Good girl,” I purr. “Move that pretty cunt, baby. I want to see this couch glistenin’ with your juices.”

I turn her head and claim her lips, stealing my way inside and tangling my tongue with hers. Our mouths attack each other in hunger, as if we’ve starved ourselves for too long and won’t be satisfied until we’re no longer famished.

That’s never going to happen. I’ll always be ravenous when it comes to the woman writhing under me.

Bailee whimpers into my mouth as she grinds against the soft leather cushioning, and I twirl my hips and give a gentle thrust to give her more friction.

Yanking my mouth from hers, I release her throat and watch as her torso drops and she buries her face while she continues to work herself.

I wrap my hand around my throbbing length, gliding my palm over it roughly in time with her movement. My eyes stay glued to the spot between her thighs, where I can see her juices glistening on the black leather and on her skin.

Her moans get louder as she works her hips faster, and I reach down to grab hold of my balls to stave off the release that wants to erupt from them. I’m not fucking ready yet. I’m nowhere near finished with my pretty little Hummingbird.

Moving my hands to her hips, I use my hold to control her speed and direction, dropping down to my knees behind her. My fingers dig into the skin of her hips as I guide her away from the couch and toward my face, taking delight in her whine of frustration.

She’s not open enough to me, and I want to be able to feast on her with abandon, so I remove a hand and place it in the middle of her back to help her arch enough over the couch. It opens her thighs and spreads that gorgeous glistening cunt to my gaze.

“Pain?” I ask, unable to remove my eyes from my destination.

“I’m supposed to be in pain?” she asks with a breathless laugh.

Even though I want to smile at her sassiness, I sink my teeth into the fleshy part of her ass in reprimand. “Unless you want me to stop and make you watch me get myself off without allowin’ you the same, suggest you give me an honest answer, Hummingbird.”

Bailee lifts her head and glances over her shoulder to where I’m kneeling behind her, sweat and hunger shining on her face. Her eyes shoot sparks at me, nearly incinerating me on the spot, and the look makes my cock ache. She’s always so soft and loving, so when she lets out her rowdy side, I fucking love it. It makes me so goddamn hot that I’m half tempted to rip her clothes off and bury my cock in her wet heat no matter where the hell we are.

“It’s at four,” she grits out as she twirls her hips, still trying to appease the hunger that is gnawing at her.

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