Page 82 of Silenced

“With this pretty pussy in front of me, how couldn’t I be hard?”

Did it just get ten million degrees hotter in here?

Yeah, I think it did.

His gaze zooms in on my sex and he licks his lips.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

A droplet of pre-cum beads on his shaft.

That’s even hotter.

How he studies my pussy was something to blush about on the first day, but now, I realize, I’m just preparing myself for his offensive.

Not that Iamoffended, but I suppose there have to be some advantages to being drawn into the underworld…

His fingers trail over the inner lips of my sex, thumbs spreading me apart to expose the tender pinkness of my channel.

His pupils dilate.

God.

His reactions might be minute, but I’m beginning to adapt to them, so each one is like a siren blaring.

This is my moment to kick him, to try and suffocate him with my legs—hey, I saw that viral video with the watermelon exploding when squeezed between the inner thighs—but… I don’t.

I don’t doanyof that.

If anything, my mouth trembles in anticipation of what Iknowis coming next…

A shudder wracks me when his tongue flutters around my clit.

“Jesus Christ,” I whimper.

He smacks his lips then trails the tip down my center.

Naturally, because my body has no shame, I’m wet, and it has nothing to do with the shower.

His hum of pleasure at my slick has me staring up at the ceiling to avoid him because I know he’ll be staring straight into my eyes.

It’s telling, I think, that I still don’t try to kick him in the back of the head.

I could.

But I don’t.

Getting the drop on him would be satisfying but… not as satisfying as what his mouth does.

His hands, large and strong, palm my ass before they drag my thighs wider apart. When his tongue trickles down my slit, drinking me like I’m his favorite vodka, I allow myself to relax.

That just makes me even dumber when he stops and waits for me to look at him.

At first, I figure he’s not going to let me hide from him. Then, his fingers shift and he signs, “Orgasms only if you’re shaved.”

It’s insane that my first retort isn’t, ‘Good.’

No, it’s indignation.

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