Page 80 of Innocent Intentions

I freeze, but he doesn’t.

He fingers continue their relentless assault, fucking me with his slow, deliberate strokes. His thumb never ceases its tormentagainst my clit. My thoughts are scattered. My body trembles against the tile as pleasure overtakes my ability to fight.

I clutch the wall for balance, knowing if I squirm, he’ll spank my thigh again. The twisted part of me,the part that liked it,wants to disobey. But I know each slap will only be harder.

Matty brings me close to the edge effortlessly. My vision blurs, stars dancing across my periphery as my pleasure crests.

And then he stops.

His hand retracts completely.

A strangled noise escapes my throat. I barely have time to protest before he drops to his knees.

Matty kneels for me.

The man who never kneels for anyone.

He throws one of my legs over his shoulder, baring me to him. His mouth is so close to where I need him. My breath stutters.

He inhales deeply, groaning like a man savoring the scent of his next meal. “Delicious.”

He leans forward. And licks me.

Once. Then again. His tongue drags through my folds in slow, teasing strokes until I’m shuddering against the wall.

Just as my muscles relax, hebitesmy clit.

“Fuck.” I curse, but it comes out as a moan.

The pain only amplifies the pleasure.

Matty groans, the vibration shooting through me as he sucks my swollen flesh into his mouth. At the same time, he thrusts two fingers inside me, curling them against a spot that makes my brain white out.

I don’t even realize I’m moving, grinding against his face, chasing more, desperate for relief, until he yanks his hand away.

A sharp slap lands on my thigh, directly over the same burning spot.

I moan.

Shit.

“Stop moving.” His voice is guttural, wrecked with need.

I bite my lip and force myself still, but he knows now. Knows I like it.

His fingers return, sliding into me again. His tongue works in tandem with his hand. My nerves sing as my body coils tighter and tighter, and I know I won’t last long.

I glance down andfuck.

His white button-up clings to his chest, drenched from the shower. But that’s not what has my breath catching.

Matty is stroking himself.

His big, veined hand is wrapped around his cock, pumping in time with the way he fucks me with his mouth.

Holy fuck.

I’ve never had a man want to go down on me before, much less get off on it. He’s falling apart from my pleasure.From me.

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