Page 110 of Iris
Her mouth’s calling me, and I can’t resist a taste, her tongue, that soft wetness, and kiss her, exploring in an urgent kiss, one she pushes into, even more urgently. Her whimper of need is mine.
I rip my mouth away, then I start to take off the remainder of my garments because I need skin on skin.
I need to be in her.
Fucking deep.
Killian has her now and he takes his time kissing her.
Good. I go down, spread her legs and start to lick and suck at her cunt and clit.
Iris is perfection, her perfect pussy now no longer virginal is still tight, the petals wet with his seed and her need, and I don’t care because I want that. She’s so fucking gorgeous and that pussy is soft and wet and dark pink, and I want to defile her more.
I pull back to watch him, my fingers teasing her clit, taking in Killian’s destruction of her senses.
He’s not being gentle. His kiss is one designed to rile and to get more from her.
I know what he’d like to do. Discipline, light spanking, he feels the brat in her, the way I do, and for me that side, the sexual meaning, turns me on, but not like it does him.
He loves it when a woman plays the game of brat, but a natural?
It’s exhilarating to him, because then he has real reason to hand out discipline, spankings, verbal control, commands.
Iris can’t help being mouthy, can’t help riling. It’s innate, that. And when he flares up in response, it also gets her going.
And I’m here for it. I love a brat, too. I fucking love to watch. The play, the tiny twists of the kink. I love to watch, beat off, get off on the girl loving it all.
But Iris is more than a kink. She really is layered and cupcake suits her. A whole slew of flavors and colors.
She’s pure brat, like I said, it’s in her bones and DNA, and there’s a reason I used the word when I first mentioned her to Kil. Knew how it’d hook into him.
Thing with her is she likes to push, to test, but she loves being sheltered, treated like a fragile thing she isn’t…no, precious, priceless, that’s how she enjoys being handled and I don’t think she even knows it.
I move out of the way for Killian who dives into her cunt, driving his tongue deep into her and then sucking hard on her clit.
My cock twitches, and I pinch down, rather than stroke. I’ve blown one load, and I don’t want to blow this one before I’m ready.
He softens down a little, eliciting a low moan from her. Yeah, she also likes to give up control and she likes the soft moments, the erotic ones. And soon I’ll give her what she needs.
But not everything, not yet. I need a share of her, my claim. And I slide down, licking along her thigh, kissing, sucking, knowing once I sink my teeth into her, I’ll lose my mind. Or what’s left of it. Because I think I’m held together by sheer shreds of will that cling tenuously.
Killian’s already gone. I’m not far behind. I savor the memory of her mouth, being so fucking deep her gags fucking massaged my dick’s tip. And her soft throat squeezed.
I wanted deeper. And yet… To fuck her mouth on my cock, taking it as far as she could was a beautiful thing, and it was all I could do to hold back and not rut deep down her throat, to not knot in her there.
She’s built for it. But not her first heat. Not now.
Her skin’s warm and satin and tastes so fucking sweet, it’s like having spring on my tongue and temptation everywhere.
The last of my control snaps.
A frisson of hot need strikes me and I bite her, right as Killian sinks his teeth into her other thigh, the guttural growl flowing over me, unearthing my own. Iris cries out, her orgasm ripping through me and him.
We’re one and her thoughts are pure and dirty and wild, she wants it all. Everything. She doesn’t even know what everything is but that’s what she wants—every experience this, us over and over again.
It’s a fucking jolt of pure adrenaline and it shreds me down to bone and beast.
And I don’t think the brat fucking cares.
