Page 2 of Locked Up by The Libra
“Uh, Ms. Ross?”
Blinking at him, I start to shake my head. No, I am not Ms. Ross. Suddenly I am awash with anger. With jealousy. Who is Ms. Ross, and why is this perfect creature looking for her? Can’t he be looking for Ms. Duchane, the loneliest little rich girl in all of Driftwood?
With my emotions at fever pitch, I forget I am naked. The little towel does little to hide my curves. His eyes eat up every inch the terry cloth doesn’t cover—which is plenty. I gasp when he crowds the door, his body so hot against mine, I whimper.
“The hell you doing answering the door naked, sweet thing?”
His huge hands circle my waist, tugging at the towel until it almost slips off. I moan from the delicious weight of his hands on me. I press against him, driven by need, by desire, by the painful ache of loneliness inside of me. I am soaking his clothes as I fit my body close, but he does not seem to mind.
“The hellyoudoing knocking at my door, stud?”
Pushing up on my toes, I seal my mouth to his. His grunt as I lick his mouth makes my pussy flutter with need. God, I am so turned on. I am shaking against his big, hard body, my tongue twisting with his as his hand tangles my hair at the nape of my neck.
Lifting me with one hand beneath my ass, he walks me back into the room. Kicking the door shut, he never takes his mouth away as he lies me down. I feel the towel being ripped away and he grunts, his hand gripping my thigh to hike it up at his hip.
“Jesus, sugar,” he groans against my throat, both of us heaving. “Do you always take what you want this way?”
“Yes, stud, I do. Canyoutake whatyouwant?”
“Fuck,” he growls, teeth nipping at my shoulder, working lower until I moan as his teeth closes around my nipple. I moan, shuddering beneath the hot, wet sensation that shoots right to my clit.
“Please,” I beg, hand lacing in his dark hair. “I need it. I need to feel good. Don’t make me beg, stud.”
“I might like how it sounds, sugar,” he teases against my chest as he licks the tattoo spread between my tits.
Our eyes clash as I glance down, a smile at my lips. God, what has gotten into me? Am I about to screw this stranger? His eyes hold mine as he kneels, a hand tugging at his belt. There is something sensual simmering in his eyes as he pulls it off with a smooth yank. Oh, yeah, I’m about to bang this guy, no regret.
“Wait…who…who is Ms. Ross?”
Jealousy hits me again, stunning me in its ferocity.What is this?Why am I feeling so damn territorial over a stranger? One I may never see again. His face changes as he blinks down at me in confusion. Head tilting, his rough hands slide up my sides, tracing the tattoos with reverence.
“I…I came to find her. But I found you,” he mutters, thumbs swiping over my nipples, tugging at the barbell piercings.
“Oh God,” I whimper, arcing beneath his magic touch.
“Need your name, sugar,” he demands as he looms over me.
“Willa. What’s yours, stud?”
“Watt. Wanna hear you shout it while I eat your pussy. You do need my mouth sucking that sweet, wet cunt, don’t you sugar?”
“Yes, please, god, Watt, I need it so bad.”
His dark chuckle makes me shudder as he slides down my body, pushing my thighs up. Watching me, he bends his big body, lifting me to his mouth. His hot tongue comes out, spreading me open, both of us groaning at how wet I am beneath his mouth. I cry out, fisting his dark hair, chanting his name like a prayer.
“That’s a good girl,” he grunts, teeth scraping over my clit. “Tell daddy how good he’s eating this sugary sweet cunt.”
“Oh, my god,” I cry out, twisting beneath his mouth. His filthy words wake up something inside of me. Something dirty, dormant part of me I had no idea was there. I want to hear be a good girl for him. I want to please him, even if it is just this one time, just these brief moments.
“Yes, yes,” I chant, rising on my elbows to watch him tongue my pussy, my folds so wet he’s making a mess of his beard. “Don’t stop, daddy. Make me come on your face. Your tongue is so….oh daddy!”
“Fuck, you’re such a good little girl. How was I so lucky to find you today? Come in my mouth like a good girl, let me have all that creamy sugar,” he demands, fucking me with his tongue as his fingers rub at my swollen clit.
“Yes! God, yes, daddy!”
I come so hard, colors flood my vision. It is like the first time I went to Coachella and took too much molly. I am shaking when he slides over me, beard scraping my skin as he kisses me everywhere. He pulls my head back, kissing me, licking my own cum into my mouth with a satisfied groan.
Sometime later I become aware again. Aware and alone. Sitting up with a start, I press a hand between my thighs. Was that all in my head? Did I imagine letting a big, beautiful man come in my room to please me with his mouth?
