Page 74 of All Twerk, No Play

“I-I don’t know,” I breathed, prompting a look of surprise. “I can’t think straight right now.”

Rewarding me for my honesty, he added a second finger and my hips started convulsing. He used his forearm to lift my skirt and blow cool air on my clit, making my hips leap. God, I wanted him to touch me there.

He brought his soft lips to my breast and flicked his tongue against my nipple, then leaned back on his heels. “How do you want to come?”

“How?” I repeated in a daze.

“On my hand, like this?” he said, fingers pumping inside me, warm breath against my cool skin as his soft beard tickled my breast. “Or do you want me to lick your pussy?”

My face heated, wanting that more than anything but the words catching in my throat, fighting years of believing that good girls didn’t talk dirty.

I nodded, and his head lowered between my legs.

Fucking finally. He sucked my clit until I was writhing, gripping the armrest, thighs squeezing his ears, right on the edge of …

His head lifted to meet my glare.

Then the bastard laughed at me.Laughed. “Say the words, Victoria. You want me to go down on you? You want me to eat you out? Does that needy clit need to be licked?”

Shit. I was on the edge of an orgasm, and I wanted him so badly I could scream.

“Eric,” I breathed. “Can you just …”

His fingertips increased their intensity as his eyes locked on my face, my breath meeting the pace of his fingers pumping inside me.

“Taste me,” I begged, releasing the chair to thread my fingers through his hair. “Please.”

With that plea, the teasing stopped. His perfect tongue flicked my clit, his fingers pressed that perfect spot, and his hand on my breast pinched with perfect pressure.

My body gave into him, his hands and mouth propelling me over the edge, pleasure bursting outwards from everywhere he touched me. My head fell back against the headrest as I bucked against his mouth and cried out, my hand holding him exactly where he needed to be.

He moaned against my clit, the vibrations extending my pleasure. As the sensitivity crested, I tried to pull him off, but he resisted, slowing the pace of his tongue and the pressure of his fingers, bringing me down gently as he caressed my most sensitive skin.

Every sensation felt like electrical pulses: his beard on my folds, his flyaway hair on my thighs, the tip of his tongue making a small circle just outside my clit, leaning back to kiss the inside of my thigh as his fingertips slid out.

When I finally opened my eyes, his pupils were blown out with desire, his beard wet with proof of my arousal, his soft lips wrapped around his fingertips to suck off my taste.

I let my gaze travel down his body, taking in his panting chest and the hard bulge against his zipper, and pride surged through me. That’s what I did to him, how much he wanted me.

“I want to suck your cock,” I blurted out, surprising myself with the dirty words dripping with desire. I’d never said those words aloud, but they flew out of my mouth unbidden.

“Seriously?” Surprise flickered across his face.

“You don’t want me to?” I asked, taken aback. Years ago, I’d studied videos to ensure I was great at blowjobs so I could reciprocate for a night out or an expensive dinner. But this moment held no reluctance or obligation, only the desire to watch him come apart.

“Of course I do, I just …” An amused grin split over his face. “I assumed I’d get you off, I didn’t expect you to reciprocate.”

I reached for his shirt, pulling him up to stand between my legs, licking my lips as his hips rose to my eye level. Unbuttoning his jeans, I slid them down to reveal boxer briefs straining with his erection … and I laughed out loud at the ridiculous pattern.

“Pineapples?” I ran a hand over the hair on his muscular thigh.

“Christmas gift,” he shrugged as he kicked off his pants, which landed somewhere behind him in my office. “I wasn’t expecting a blowjob tonight.”

I squeezed his thighs. “Like you can’t get one whenever you want.”

“It’s been a while for me, too,” he said, his hand stroking over the strained cotton. I tore my gaze from his boxers to look up at his face, full of desire yet tight with restraint, uncertainty hiding behind his need. “About three months.”

He hadn’t had sex with anybody since he met me.

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