Page 59 of Bad Seed
A little giggle and movement wrenches my gaze up. Her shirt falls to the side. My cock jerks so hard against my pants, I groan at the bite of my zipper. Red. Scandalous red that probably matches her panties. I can’t tell because my brain’s short-circuited on her tits.
The skin smooth as coconut milk rounds over the top of the low lines of her bra. They look about to spill out with one quick laugh. I want to tickle her, to watch them heave over their ballast. Oh, shit. Are those her nipples? A hint of dark brown lingers under the shadow and I reach for my cock.
“Wait,” she says and waggles her finger.
For what? If I have to wait any longer I’m going to have an aneurism.
Sadie climbs out from under me. I’m a statue in place, fearful that if I move I’m going to lose what little control I have left. As she rises to her knees, she squeezes out of her jeans. Soft flesh bursts free then wobbles. My hands clench to grab her hips and pull those thighs to my mouth.
Her weaving on the bed causes me to buck on my knees as she works her jeans over one foot. Dark black hairs curl through the lace in her panties. I want to run my fingers down her soft blanket, wrap the crotch of her underwear around my hand, and plunge myself inside. As she reaches for her second ankle, her hand lands on my chest.
I freeze. Solid. Immobile. A statue watching a woman peel off her clothes. Bare skin folding, rolling, glimmering in the overhead fan light. Begging to be touched, kneaded, pulled, bit.
“There,” she says, her cheeks flushed as she at last sits on her knees before me in nothing but her panties and bra.
Take it off. Take all of it off. Let me—
Her palm runs down my crotch. I tip my head back, drinking in every sensation of her hand through denim. I miss the button popping, but not the zipper falling. My cock wastes no time erupting out of my fly. So much for putting on boxer shorts to slow me down tonight.
Peering into my eyes, Sadie places one finger, then two, then her whole hand around my shaft. Never leaving my gaze, she starts to pump higher. I lean for her, but her palm lands on my chest.
“Ah…” She gives a little waggle of her finger. With the grace of a swan, she spins in bed and drops to her belly. Heat washes over my cock and I stare in ecstatic rapture as her lips part right above the crown.
“Fuck,” I groan at the tip of her tongue swirling across the head. Sadie inches along the bed. She plants an elbow to the mattress, leaving me free, but I’m locked in place. As she sucks me in, her eyes close like she’s savoring the most delicious delicacy. Halfway down, she pauses and swirls back up.
Stars burst in my eyes. She flicked her tongue against the crown’s edge, and I can barely breathe. Guzzling in air, I look up to find her feet swaying in the air. She’s crossed them at the ankles and keeps rolling them back and forth while sucking me off.
Pressure lands on the base of my cock. Her hand circles up and her mouth down. Fuck. Slicking her palm with her salvia, she jerks back to the root and teases my crown with her tongue. Over and over, all while her feet coquettishly bounce in the air.
My hand falls on her head. I tousle through her hair, tearing apart her pony tail. The black locks tumble down her shoulder as I reach for anything to ground me.
Fuck me. Yes. God.I want to cum down her throat. Watch her gargle on me as she gazes up with impressed wonder. Take the back of her head and…
My hand tightens around her hair. It begins to spin in time with her tongue, winding her locks around my fist until I get a hold of it. Then I pull.
“Stop.”
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CHAPTER NINETEEN
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SADIE
Stop?
He pulls my hair without yanking, and I scramble to sit up. As I get to my knees, he marches closer.
Did I do it wrong? Look, maybe some woman can swallow that huge thing, but unless I get bit by a radioactive snake, I’m not deep throating him.
Scales would be cool though.
Aubry unwinds my hair off his hand and runs his palm down my cheek to cup my chin. I didn’t realize my head had fallen until he lifts it up. His eyes shine purple as he stares down at me. No, as he drinks me in. Crammed into a bra I didn’t realize was too small, thighs speckled with razor burn bumps, and the lingering redness of my hives.
His jaw flexes, bulging with such force I fear he might have bit his tongue.
“Get to your feet,” he orders.
