Page 35 of Stolen Mafia Vows
“I don’t want the world.” I nibble his bottom lip between my front teeth. “But I would like to see you in a kilt.”
His smile is spontaneous, and his whole face lights up. “You cheeky minx. You only want to peer underneath to see if it’s true. Admit it.”
I chuckle. “If what is true?”
“That Scottish men don’t wear anything underneath their kilts.” His cock knocks against my ass cheeks as he speaks, as if trying to make a point.
I suck my lips in to stop myself from grinning. “Maybe?”
“Well, who am I to stand in the way of a new experience?” His hand travels down to the mound of my pussy and cups it, his middle finger sliding between the folds. “You’re wet just thinking about it, aren’t you?”
“Yep. You got me.” My voice is thick and husky.
“My insatiable puisin.”
“Puisin?” Eoghan has been teaching me some Gaelic words, but I haven’t heard this one before.
“Kitten. My insatiable pussy cat.” He rolls his tongue, making a purring sound that sends fresh shivers down my spine. “I’ll take you to Scotland on one condition.”
“Which is?”
In lieu of a response, he spreads my legs wide with his knees and drags my ass back towards him, so that my upper body is horizontal, my breasts swaying beneath me. I hold onto the windowsill with my arms fully extended and wait for him to elaborate. I enjoy these games as much as I enjoy him filling me up with his cock and fucking me with his tongue.
Two fingers slip inside me, pinching my clit, and making me gasp.
“You like that, don’t you, puisin?” he breathes against my neck, his chest molding to my back.
“Yes.” I can hear my wetness on his fingers as he probes inside me.
“Do you remember the night I watched you make yourself come?”
“Yes.”How could I ever forget?
He slides his fingers out of me and rubs the slickness around my folds. Then, he raises his hand and sticks them in my mouth. “Taste yourself, Emily.”
I do as I’m told.
Gripping his wrist to keep his hand steady, I lick his fingers, working from the base upward, curling my tongue around them and dragging it up to his fingertips. I can’t remember a time when my taste was unfamiliar to me. It has become a part of our new normal, this ritual of tasting each other, as easy as kissing each other goodnight before we go to sleep, and I can’t seem to get enough of it.
“Can you still taste my cum?” He watches my tongue on his fingers greedily, like a man dying of starvation.
I pull away and lick my lips, slowly, while he follows the tip of my tongue with his eyes. “Not sure.”
His mouth twists into a lopsided smile. “We must rectify that. But first… Don’t move.”
In one easy graceful movement, he eases himself away from my back and kneels between me and the window, facing my pussy.
“Touch yourself, puisin.” His cock grows between his legs, and my sex throbs in response.
I release my grip on the windowsill with my right hand and lower it between my legs. It doesn’t occur to me to stand up straight. Eoghan told me not to move, so I remain in the same position, legs spread wide, upper body horizontal, supporting myself with my left hand while I rub my clit.
“Slowly.” Eoghan is firm.
I slowdown my movements, my fingertip barely grazing my swollen clit.
“Nice and steady, puisin. Did I tell you how much I enjoy watching you play with yourself?”
As he speaks, he turns around and lies down on the floor, shuffling backwards so that his face is directly underneath my pussy. His cock stands tall and proud, teasing me, and my pulse gathers speed.
