Page 84 of Switching Skates
Glancing away from her to find some strength, I see Maeve has passed out in Jackson’s lap and arms, him falling asleep right along with her.
Hmm, interesting.
I lift Daphne’s chin up, and when her eyes find mine, I whisper, “Be quiet.”
“What do you mean?” she whispers back.
But I don’t give her an answer. In one swift move, I stand up, lean down, and pick her up, flinging her over my shoulder.
She makes a small squeal but slaps her hand over her face. Maeve and Jackson don’t wake or stir.
Quietly, I walk around the sofa and recliner and head toward the staircase, ascending them with ease as I hold Daphne in place, resisting the urge to slide my hand between her legs right now or slap her ass.
Not until she’s fully mine, no hesitations or potential regret. Then I’ll feel comfortable touching her without asking, knowing undoubtedly that she wants it.
Turning into her room, I wrap one arm around her legs dangling over the front of my shoulder and shut the door with my other hand.
It’s dark in here, but not too dark that I can’t see her eyes fly open as I fling her over my shoulder and drop her onto her bed.
Her pupils are shot, lips parted, legs relaxed and open. I’d bet money that she’s wet right now, as turned on as I am.
Why don’t I find out?
Dropping to my knees in front of her, I crawl to the bed and prop myself up, my hands on her bare thighs, greedy to feel her soft skin.
Her breath quickens. “Are you going to tell me now?”
Wetting my bottom lip, I push her legs further apart, and she gasps.
“Can I show you instead?”
Nervously, she lifts her finger to her lips, biting down on the tip and nodding with a faint grin.
“Oh, come on, Sunset. That’s not very convincing.” I sit up and lean back. “If you don’t want me to, that’s okay. You won’t hurt my feelings.”
Her eyes darken, and she grabs my arm as I start to lean away, stopping me. “Oh, trust me, Iwantit, Mason.”
A mix between a growl and a groan leaves me at the sound of my name on her sweet, sweet lips.
Inch by inch, I glide my hands up her thighs, bunching her shorts up past her panties. She sits up, propping herself up on her hands to watch. My dirty girl wants to see every second.
Leaning down, I press my lips into the inside of her knee, higher and higher, feeling her body warm with every kiss.
I switch to the other leg. “You have”—kiss—“no idea”—kiss—“how long”—kiss—“I’ve waited”—kiss—“to taste you.”
A soft moan slips past her lips, and my dick throbs, threatening to burst the seams of my pants.
“How long I’ve dreamed of hearing my name on your lips.” Grabbing the bunched fabric of her shorts, I slide them down as she lifts her hips, and I toss them to the floor beside me.
Her heavy, ragged breathing tells me she feels exactly the same way.
Pretty red lace panties wait for me when I return my kisses up her instep, planting a greedy one perfectly over her clit. She bucks at the contact, and I decide to go back for a second one, this time using my tongue to soak through the lace, getting the tiniest taste of what’s to come.
“Fucking hell, baby, I could get drunk off your pussy.” I run my nose up her center. “Happily. Deliriously. No sanity in sight.” I glide my tongue up the lace. “That’s what this pretty cunt does to me.”
“Mason.” She whimpers my name, sounding as helpless as ever as I suck and lick the soft skin of her inner thighs. “Ugh, why are you so good at that?”
“If devouring you was a sport, I’d be a gold medalist between your thighs, baby.” I mutter as I continue to torment her with my tongue, licking everywhere but the one place she desperately wants it.
