Page 54 of Texting, Trouble & Touchdowns
Lucian: We could have you on your knees. Right here, right now.
Olivia: Bold of you to assume I’d just drop for you.
Lucian: Oh, sweetheart. You wouldn’t just drop. You’d sink—slow and lingering, keeping eye contact the whole time. Teasing me with that pretty little mouth of yours, licking your lips like you know exactly what you’re about to do to me.
Olivia: Wow. Someone’s invested in this fantasy.
Lucian: Our future reality. It’s only a matter of time. I bet you’d start slow, kissing your way down my stomach, dragging your nails over my skin just to watch me tense up. I’d grab a fistful of your hair, guide you exactly where I want you. And when you finally wrap those lips around me? Fuck, Olivia. I’d lose my fucking mind.
Olivia: That’s cute. You think I’d let you be in charge?
Lucian: Oh, you want control? You want to tease me? Keep me right at the edge, pulling back every time I try to thrust deeper.
Olivia: Now you’re catching on.
Lucian: You wanna use that perfect fucking mouth to wreck me? Run your tongue over the tip, swirl it just right, but never let me have all of it?
Olivia: Hypothetically speaking.
Lucian: Nah, there’s nothing hypothetical about the way you’re squirming right now, sweetheart. I bet your thighs are clenched tight. I bet your fingers are gripping the sheets, wondering what it’d feel like to have my cock heavy on your tongue, my hands fisting your hair, my voice telling you how fucking good you are while I fight not to lose control.
Olivia: Have I ever told you that you have a filthy mouth and a dirty imagination?
Lucian: And you love it. Don’t even try to deny it, Liv.
Olivia: I think you just like hearing yourself talk.
Lucian: Oh, sweetheart. I’d rather hear you. Moaning, panting, begging me to fuck you precisely the way you need.
Olivia: Bold of you to assume I’d beg.
Lucian: Oh, you would. Maybe not at first—you’d fight me a little, keep up that filthy mouth of yours, but once I have you where I want you? Once I have you spread out, dripping, aching for me? You’ll be gasping: please, Lucian. Before I even slide my cock inside you.
Olivia: You’re assuming a lot, but keep it coming. This is entertaining.
Lucian: I just know how to read you, baby. And right now? I know you’re tipsy. I know you’re feeling bold. And I know—fuck, I know—you’d let me ruin that smart mouth of yours if I were there.
Olivia: Maybe I’d be the one ruining you.
Lucian: Oh? You think you can handle me?
Olivia: Pleaseeee. I know I can. I eat men like you for breakfast. You want to know what I would do with you . . . boy? I’d drop to my knees right in front of you, watching the way your jaw clenches when I run my fingers down your stomach, teasing, getting closer and closer.
Lucian: Fuck, Liv.
Olivia: I’d look up at you, all innocent-like, just to see you fucking lose it before I drag my tongue over the tip of your cock. Just the tip at first. Just enough to make you groan, to make your hands twitch at your sides because you’re trying so hard not to grab my hair and shove me down deeper.
Lucian: You are playing with fire right now.
Olivia: Am I? I thought I was following your little fantasy.
Lucian: Sweetheart, the second you wrap those lips around me, it stops being a fantasy.
Olivia: Yeah? What happens then?
Lucian: Then I fist your hair, tilt your head just the way I like, and fuck that pretty little mouth of yours until you’re gagging on me. Until your nails are digging into my thighs, tears in your eyes, because you love taking me deep.
Olivia: You think I’d just let you do that?
