Page 117 of Whatever Lola Wants

He chuckled against her mouth. “Lucky you,” he rumbled.

Oh, yeah. Lucky me. She moaned, the sound muffled by his mouth. His tongue thrust into her mouth, penetrating, claiming. Her body clenched, her hands tugging on the restraints as her arms tried to come down to hold him, touch him. Not being able to made her moan again.

His mouth left hers to slide down her throat, nibbling and licking at the sensitive hollow. His hands roamed her body, nimble fingers undoing the tie on her wrap dress and peeling it away so she lay there in her underwear. “Nice,” he rumbled, caressing her swollen breasts, her hips through the lace covered silk that matched the emerald green of her dress. “Color coordinated, as usual.”

“We’re missing the rehearsal dinner,” she reminded him, trying to be responsible.

He scooted down to grasp the edge of her bra in his teeth and peel it back. “So?” he murmured and flicked his tongue across her nipple.

She gasped as little sparks of sensation raced over her skin. “Anna will come looking for me,” she managed.

His chuckle vibrated against her. “Grant knows where we are.”

“He does?” She blinked, her mind struggling to process why that was wrong, then he took her nipple in his mouth and sucked, and her mind went blank.

He was voracious, tugging and suckling hard on her breast, opening his mouth to take more of her in. She could feel every pull on her breast deep in her belly, her cunt clenching in rhythm with him as it flooded with moisture, readying itself for his cock.

“Okay,” she breathed, and let her body go limp. He’d do what he wanted, and she’d let him. Because it was what she wanted, too.

He felt the tension drain out of her body and growled, recognizing it for the surrender it was. “God, I love you,” he muttered. His big hand came up to cover her breast, kneading and stroking as he kissed his way down her belly.

He skimmed his tongue under the edge of the lace garter belt, an approving rumble vibrating against her skin. “I like this,” he told her. “Why don’t you wear these more often?”

“Impractical,” she managed, breathing hard. Her heart was pounding in her ears. “And I hate wearing hose.”

“Mmm.” He scraped his teeth along her hip, making her quiver. “I’ll let you order anchovies on pizza once for every time you wear something like this.”

She laughed, breathless. “Maybe I could work it in once in a while,” she said, then gasped when he slipped lower and licked over the front of her panties. His tongue pushed the slick fabric against her clit, and her hips jerked in an involuntary spasm.

She felt him nudge the panties aside, the wash of his breath against the sensitive skin of her bare pussy. She held her breath, waiting for the touch of his tongue, then jerked with surprise when someone pounded on the door.

“Lola!” Anna’s voice came clearly through the door. “Lola, are you in there? Are you okay?”

Simon chuckled, the vibrations hitting her exposed pussy and making her shiver. “You better answer her, or she’s going to bust in here and get an eyeful.”

Lola opened her mouth to shout an answer, and could only let out a thin whine when he licked her.

“Lola!” More banging, hard enough to rattle the door on its hinges. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” she finally shouted and choked back a cry when he rewarded her with a long, slow lick over her clit.

The pounding paused, and through the ringing in her ears Lola heard the muffled sounds of conversation.

“Lola,” a new voice called, and Lola realized Ginger was there as well. “Is this what you want?”

“Yes!” she shouted, unsure if she was answering the question or reacting to the sudden penetration of Simon’s tongue into her pussy. Didn’t matter, really—the answer was the same.

“Okay,” Anna called, and Lola heard their footsteps echo down the hall as they walked away.

Simon lifted his head, eyes gleaming. “Whatever Lola wants,” he murmured, “Lola gets.” Then he lowered his mouth to her pussy again.

Sensation exploded, sparks racing over her skin, in her blood, down, down to the depths of her core, where she clenched and tightened and ached with every flick of his tongue and nip of his teeth. She cried out, exploding with pleasure that went on and on and on.

When it was over, she lay panting, her body still jerking with aftershocks and lovely little pulses of pleasure. She felt him crawl up her body, his lips skimming over the skin of her belly, her torso, her neck before pressing to her mouth in a deep, searching kiss. She could taste herself on him, the flavor mixing with the taste that was uniquely Simon, and the combination had her moaning in renewed desire.

“Wait,” she gasped, and he chuckled against her mouth.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he murmured, not sounding sorry at all, “but I’m afraid you’ve got a rough time ahead of you.”

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