Page 30 of Chicago Sin
Shivers of excitement run through me at my helplessness. The thrill of being completely at his mercy focalizes every sensation to a sharp point. He shoves my two shirts up and tugs down the front of my bra roughly. I gasp a little, my belly shuddering in and out with my breath, my nipples bead up into stiff peaks. He pinches my right nipple between his thumb and forefinger and squeezes. Hard. Then he slaps the side of my breast.
I croak in surprise. I’m scared—definitely scared—because it hurt a little, and no one’s ever touched me that way before. There’s a disrespect to it, too, that I’m not sure I like.
Except he watches my face intently.
And that steady regard calms me.
He pinches my nipple again then drops his head to suck it. He laves it with his tongue, scrapes his teeth lightly over the taut bud, pulls it into his mouth and releases it with a pop.
My lips part. Brain fries and scrambles.
He gives the treatment to the left nipple, only he starts with his mouth and ends with a slap.
I cry out, startled once more. I’m a little frightened, a lot turned on. He pinches both nipples at the same time, rolling them between his fingers and thumbs and pinching before he expands his grip to encompass all of the breast.
I drop my head back and arch, filling his hands with my breasts, begging for more.
Armando moves lower, his large palms sliding up my skirt, skating lightly up my thighs to my hips, then hooking under the waistband of my panties and dragging them down.
“I didn’t make you come enough before, did I?” His voice is a rusty rumble. “You’re a greedy, greedy girl.”
I shake my head.
“I’m gonna make it up to you this time.”
My breath comes out in a low moan.
He tosses the panties to the side and runs the pad of his thumb over my dewy slit. “Juicy,” he observes.
I’d be embarrassed, except he brings his thumb to his mouth and sucks my fluid like it’s honey. “Spread.”
I stare for a moment, taken aback by the command. He grips behind my knees and pushes them up toward my chest, then slaps the inside of my thigh. It smarts, and I don’t like it, but then I forget because he lowers his head between my legs.
The first lick makes my hips jump off the bed. He slides his hands under them and grips my ass, squeezing and releasing as he strokes his tongue up and down my slit.
Crazy sounds come out of my mouth. Strangled sobs. Little uhns. Choked breathing.
I moan and arch and thrash my legs around his shoulders.
He takes his time. The tip of his tongue traces all around my inner lips, then flicks over my clit. He uses it to penetrate me, then puts his lips over my nubbin and sucks.
I scream, yanking on my bound hands, my knees crashing around his ears. He sinks his thumb into my entrance without releasing the suction on my clit, and I start to shake and shudder. I’m close—so close—to release. I just need him to pump that thumb in and out, and I’ll get there.
Only he doesn’t.
He slides his thumb out. Breaks the seal on the suction.
“No-o,” I moan. “Please.”
“You want to come?” His voice is so rough and deep I scarcely recognize it.
“Yes. Please. Do it again, Armando. Oh God, please?”
“You gonna be a good girl?”
“Yes!” I don’t have any clue what he’s talking about, but I will definitely be a good girl. I would do anything he wanted me to at this point.
“If I say spread, what do you do?” He brings his fingers down in a light slap over my clit, and my knees snap closed and flap open like wild butterfly wings.
