Page 13 of His Little Spitfire

Eliza makes this throaty gasp sound before I feel her fingers on my throat. She’s not digging her nails into my flesh, or trying to cut off my oxygen. No, she’s using my neck as something to cling onto.

The brat wants this as much as I do. She’s just too stubborn to admit it out loud, opting to let me be the bad guy here. Fine. I won’t just be bad, I’ll be the worst man she’ll ever come to hate.

Anything to get more of whatever this frustrating thing is I feel for her.

I don’t go around kissing women, so I’m no master. However, the way Eliza groans around my tongue, I can’t help but feel like a pro.

I want to kiss her again, and again.

Fuck, who am I?

Releasing her, I leave her panting. Hell, I’m out of breath too.

Not wanting to let her see just how much she’s affected me, I push her down against the table. Using my hand to keep her there, I use my other hand to try and wipe off the look on my face. I don’t think it works like I want it to.

“Sign the paper.” The order comes out thick, catching in my throat. Keeping my hand pressed against her back, I thrust against her ass. Fucking clothes are in the way, but I can feel the heat from her pussy. “If you want my cock, then sign.”

What’s more startling than the words coming from my lips is the need I feel to get inside. Fuck, I want in. This morning was just foreshadowing. Now I’m drowning in need.

The more friction I feel from grinding against her, the hungrier I am.

She doesn’t do as I say. Even worse, she tries to brush the pen to the side. Damn her for being so fucking stubborn.

Once she’s where I am, she’ll feel the desperation. The need to have me the way I need her.

I’m dropping to my knees before my thoughts can catch up with my actions. Smelling her arousal through her clothes, my mouth floods at the thought of her pussy glistening from nothing more than a kiss.

“You’re a brat,” I remind her as I yank her pants down. Panties be damned, they go right with them. “A goddamn princess who needs too much attention.”

She tries to insult me with a curse, but it morphs into the beautiful sound of a raw cry of pleasure as soon as my tongue makes contact with her slick lips.

All I can focus on is the moans that leave her lips as I suck her clit into my mouth.

“Urzo!” My name leaves her lips, and it’s the first time she’s said it without a string of curses or threats following suit. It’s like music to my ears, a melody I want to drown in.

She’s panting, a moaning mess with her quivering thighs and her soaking wet pussy.

I can’t stop. No longer in control of myself, I grip her hips hard enough to make her hiss as I bury my tongue deeper into her sweet cunt. Spreading her walls apart, I press against her sensitive nerves and lap up at the juices I’m rewarded with from my efforts.

My cock aches as it digs into my zipper, pleading with me to cave into this hunger. To shove my way in and fuck her until she’s begging me for more. I’m hovering over the line of control, and it’s a losing battle.

As her body arches and her walls clamp around my invading tongue, I can feel her approaching orgasm. She’s close, I’m sure of it. So close to tasting her sweet release on my tongue, I use what little restraint I have left to pull away.

Leaving her teetering on the edge of her orgasm, she wails as cool air nips at her hot slickness.

“No!” Whimpering, she shakes her head. Her pussy looks so swollen, so needy, I’m tempted to dive right back in, but I barely keep distance despite these delicious sounds leaving her lips. “Please!”

Fuck me, two words have never sounded so addicting. I’m already imagining her begging me for what her body needs. Pleading for me to give her what she wants.

My balls clench, demanding I find a hole to empty my seed into. Demanding Eliza to be the one to take every fucking drop. I’m already soaking the fabric of my boxers, I can feel it with every shift. A reminder that my body is the one in control this time around. My sanity is shattered to pieces.

At this point, I’m ready to fuck her whether or not she signs. I need inside. I need to feel those velvet walls squeezing around my cock.

Eliza still has some brain power here, yet, she doesn’t realize how much desperation is rolling off of me. Desperate in her own way, she slaps her hand around for the pen.

Right. The paper. Two birds, one stone. Whatever the fuck the saying is.

Through a haze of arousal, I watch her lift long enough to do as she was told. Standing up, the leather of my belt licks my wrist as I free the hard length of my throbbing erection.

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