Page 66 of The Final Contract
“Maybe.”
I watch her. She turns her head toward the window, picking at her nail. She feels my stare and, after a moment, her gaze comes back to mine. A second passes. Then her expression shifts—less nerves, more…something else.
Intrigued.
My eyes drop to her mouth—pink gloss catching the low light, her full bottom lip begging. I can already feel her lips around my cock, wet heat swallowing me whole.
She runs her tongue across her bottom lip. Fuck.
“You seem nervous,” I say, my voice heavier than it should be. My cock’s thickening in my slacks, no chance of hiding it now.
“Maybe I am,” she breathes.
My gaze doesn’t move. “You want a distraction, little killer?”
Her grin is pure sin—like a siren calling me straight to the rocks.
“Maybe I do.”
She slips off the seat, onto her knees on the limo floor, and crawls toward me. The hem of her miniskirt rides up, baring more of her thighs. If I were behind her, I know I’d see the soft mound of her pussy outlined in panties. I wonder what color she put on for me tonight. Wonder if she’s already wet.
She kneels between my spread legs, hands gliding up my thighs, slow and teasing.
“I could use something to take my mind off things, big man.”
Then her palm presses against the length of my cock. It throbs at her touch, straining against the fabric.
After every way I fucked her last night, she’s still starving for more.
What a perfect fucking angel she is for a bastard like me.
“Take my cock out.”
She does it without a word. No rush—traffic’s thick tonight, plenty of time. She unzips my pants, and I lift my hips just enough to help her drag them down. She reaches under the band of my boxers and frees me—cock and balls heavy in her hands.
Her eyes lock on them like they’re the key to the universe.
Pre-cum beads at the tip, and still she just looks—hunger written in every line of her face.
“Fuck, angel,” I rasp, my hand sliding into her hair. “I could come just from you lookin’ at my dick like that.”
Her fingers curl around the base of my length—warm and sure—and she leans forward to lick across the head. Her tongue flicks over the piercing, making me hiss through my teeth when she gives it a little tug. That ring has never felt like this before—not until her mouth.
“Open for me, baby,” I murmur, hands on each side of her head. “Let me see you take it.”
She parts her lips and slides down over me—slow and steady—until the wet heat of her throat seals tight around the piercing and the thickest part of my cock. No struggle. No gag. Just her swallowing me whole like she was fuckin’ designed for it.
Christ.
I look down and almost lose it—her lips stretched wide, gloss smeared across the corners, spit slicking my shaft. My cock disappears into her throat like it belongs there.
“Fuck, angel,” I groan, tightening my grip in her hair. “You take every inch like you’ve been waitin’ your whole life for this dick.”
Her eyes flick up to mine—wicked—confirming it without a word. And then she moans, the sound vibrating around my cock, rattling all the way through my spine.
“Shit.”
She pulls back slow, lips dragging over every ridge, tongue teasing the piercing as she retreats, leaving my shaft glistening with spit. Then she swallows me again, all the way down, her nose brushing my stomach as she hums like it’s nothing. Like she can do this all fuckin’ night.
