Page 67 of The County Line
Her lips part, a breathless sound escaping her as her eyes go wide, and for a second, she looks stunned—like no one’s ever looked at her this way before. And that’s a damn tragedy.
“Beautiful,” I repeat, low and reverent. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, Molly.”
A shiver rolls across her skin as her thighs press together, and I know we’re both toeing the edge of something that’s been building for years. And we’re just getting started.
“You drive me wild.You,make me feel things I thought I was too damaged to feel ever again.”
I lean forward and peel her underwear from her legs, my breath slowing as her glistening pussy comes into view. She looks utterly delectable, soft and inviting, a vision I’ve craved since the first time I tasted her in my childhood bedroom.
It was dark then—shadows hiding the full glory of her body. Now, with the sunlight filtering through the RV’s small window, I take in every curve, every dip, every part of her. Her full breasts, tight nipples and curvy hips. The slight patch of dark hair at the top of her pussy draws my eyes downward, pointing like an arrow to my new favorite treat. I lick my lips, anticipation coiling tight in my gut.
She watches me, her chest rising and falling, and then reaches back, unhooking her bra like she can’t wait for me to finish.
Her strong, toned body is there, laid bare for me to play with. Everything about her is on display, a feast laid out just for me. Any lingering doubt about how I’ll take her vanishes, though that small, nagging fear that I might disappoint her still clings to the edges of my mind.
“You sure you want this?” I ask, my voice gravelly with need because despite how hard I am and how much I need her right now, I’ll always stop if she tells me to.
“I do,” she breathes, her voice tight and hungry. “Will you undress?”
“Not yet. First, your pussy is mine.”
And then I dive in, pressing my tongue into her opening as far as I can, tasting her, teasing her, letting her slick warmth coat my face and beard. She gasps, arching into me, her hands gripping my head, holding me in place as I get to work.
“Yes, Colt,” she moans, her voice a siren call that drives me wild. “Yes, fuck yes,” she groans.
My nose presses against her clit, and her fingers rake across my scalp, scraping sharply. I tilt my head up just enough to watch at her and catch her smile. “My favorite,” I groan against her soaked pussy.
“Colt,” she pleads. “I want you to fuck me.”
I pull back, my lips and chin wet with the taste of her. The raw need in her voice shatters what little control I have left. Standing, I yank my dress pants off and toss them to the side, and strip away my black T-shirt. My cock stands hard and heavy against my stomach, aching for her. I grip it, giving a slow, deliberate stroke as I stand at the end of the bed, staring down at her tight, perfect pussy.
She sits up on the bed, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. Her hands find my hips, pulling herself closer as she scoots to the edge, her eyes locked on mine.
“Let me suck you off first,” she whispers, her voice dripping with want.
Fuck.
Her hands wrap around me, both working together to fully encircle my shaft, and then she starts to stroke—slow at first, just enough pressure to tease, to torture. My cock stiffens even harder in her grip, each glide of her palms sending sparks down my spine until they gather at the base of my neck. I groan low in my throat, twisting my head side to side as tension cracks loose in every joint like she’s not just touching my body—she’s unlocking it. Releasing all the stiffness that I didn’t realize I’d had.
Then she lowers her head. Her lips brush over my crown, soft, plump, and warm, before she parts them and closes them around my tip. She squeezes gently at the same time, just enough to make my legs tense beneath me.
“Fuck me, Molly.”
It comes out like a prayer. A plea. A curse.
Her tongue flicks against the sensitive tip, teasing me with the lightest swirl before she pulls back, licking down the thick vein along the side, dragging the flat of her tongue until I’m soaked, until I feel the cool contrast of the air on my skin, and it makes me twitch in her hands.
Then she wraps her lips around me again and starts to sink downward, slow, confident, taking me in inch by inch. Her mouth is hot and slick, her tongue cradling the underside of my cock like she was made for this and knows exactly what she’s doing. She goes deeper.
And deeper.
Until her nose nudges my pelvis and her throat flexes around me like a fucking miracle.
“Goddamn it,” I groan, one hand bracing on the window beside me, the other sliding to the back of her head. Her hair’s like silk between my fingers, and I tangle my grip there—not to control her, but because I’m barely staying upright.
No gag reflex for Molly. That’s one hell of a surprise.
She hums around me, a low, satisfied sound that vibrates through the thickest part of me and has me seeing stars. I’ve dreamt about this—about her—more nights than I’ll admit out loud. And now, the fantasy isn’t just real, it’s better. So much better.
