Page 89 of Scrape the Barrel
He dipped his finger into the bowl again. “Get on your knees and try it again.”
Oh, fuck.
Though he was the one standing there in only an apron and boxers, I quickly became the one at his mercy. He hadn’t needed to wear the apron, but he’d done it for me. Now all I wanted todo was return the favor in any way he wanted it, and if being on my knees was what he desired, then I’d do it.
I lowered myself, keeping my eyes glued to his as my knees met the ground. I opened my mouth and he brought his finger to my tongue, letting me close my lips around the digit.
Was it wrong that I wished I was sucking something else of his instead?
“That taste good, baby?”
I hummed, nodding as I took his finger the slightest bit deeper.
After it was licked clean, he removed his finger again. He eyed me, then dipped back into the bowl, but instead of staying where he was, he casually crossed the kitchen, leaning back against the wall. He watched me from where he stood, hunger shining in his eyes.
But it wasn’t hunger for the icing or the cinnamon rolls or any of that.
It was for me.
“Crawl to me.”
My palms lowered to the ground, and slowly, I prowled toward him, never once removing my eyes from his.
He watched every movement, his stance nonchalant, like he had all the time in the world to visually devour me.
Like nothing else mattered but me.
I stopped once I was right in front of him, removing my palms from the ground to perch up on myknees.
“Now be a good girl and suck my finger like you wish it was my cock.”
My lips parted, wrapping around his finger again, but instead of stopping at the knuckle, I took his finger all the way in, letting the tip of it hit the back of my tongue.
I liked to think men had big hands for a reason, and this was one of them.
My cheeks hollowed as I sucked, my tongue twisting and twirling around him, and my mouth ached to be full. Sucking his finger was fine, but I wanted more.
My mouth slid off of him. “I want more.”
“Oh, yeah?” he questioned. “How much more?”
“You. All of you. Inside me.”
He reached down, hooking his hands under my armpits, and hauled me up so that I was standing before him.
“Inside you here?” he asked, running a finger over my lips. He trailed down my jaw, over my chest, and past the hem of my shorts. His touch sent goosebumps down my thighs as he shoved the leg of my shorts aside and slid his hand up to my pussy.
Iknewhe felt how utterly soaked I was.
“Or here?”
“Both.” The word came out like a plea.
“My finger not enough for you, baby?”
I wanted to whimper at the thought of him filling me with his dick instead. “I want more.” It wasn’t just the sex I wanted more of with him, it was everything else, too. I wanted this to bemore than what it was, and with us crossing this line, it solidified us. “As long as you do, too.”
He brought his hand to my cheek, gently tucking my hair behind my ear. “I’ve just been waiting for you to say the words.”
