Page 69 of Face Off
If I wanted a naked girl in bed with me, I could have answered any of the three dozen Instagram DMs blowing up my phone.
But here I am.
On my knees between Emerson’s legs. Leaking in my briefs like a horny fucking teenager when she tips her thighs wide open, teasing me within an inch of my life.
She has to be doing it on purpose.
There’s no other explanation for why I’m teetering on the brink of insanity and she’s smirking at me.
Fuck.
I can’t stop looking at her.
Her tits are pretty and full and the perfect size to fit in my hands. When I reach up and roll a hard nipple between my finger and thumb, she lets out a pleased sigh that goes straight to my dick.
God damn.
The things I want to do to this woman.
There’s a list a mile long and not nearly enough time.
I want to wrap my hand around her throat and finish all over her chest. Smear my cum down her stomach and paint a picture. Maybe write out the wordmineso everyone else stays the fuck away.
I might only have her for one night—an hour at best—but I’m going to ruin her so badly no one will ever measure up to me.
The next time someone kisses her, she’s going to wish it were my mouth on hers.
The next time someone touches her, she’s going to wish it were my fingers trailing down her body.
The next time someone fucks her, she’s going to wish it weremycock buried inside her.
“Am I being good, Emmy?” I twist her other nipple, and her back arches off the bed. “Good enough to touch the rest of you?”
“Yes,” she rasps, a needy noise from the back of her throat. I can’t wait to fuck her mouth and see what other sounds I can get her to make. If she’ll gag or moan. Maybe she’ll laugh. “Such a good boy. You can touch me wherever you want.”
I grin smugly at her praise and move my attention away from her tits. I don’t have a lot of time, and I’m not leaving this room before I get a chance to taste her.
I spot something on the underside of her ribs, and I tilt my head to get a better look.
“One of your tattoos?” I ask.
“Yeah.” Emerson puts her hand over mine. She guides the tips of my fingers to the shape of an hourglass with half the sand already gone. “A reminder that life is short.”
“I like it.” I press a kiss to the design and run my tongue over the spot I just touched. She’s warm and soft, and I know her pussy is going to feel the same way. “Where’s your other one?”
She moves our hands to the top of her underwear. The purple scrap is made of lace and bows and way too many fucking strings.
“Here.” She taps her hip, and I spy a bouquet with yellow and orange and bright pink flowers. A bow tied around the stem that forms a heart. “I like all the colors.”
“So do I.” I rub my thumb across the artwork. Trace the petals and the basket they all sit in, and I kiss that one too.
“Maverick,” she whines, and I blow out an unsteady breath.
Jesus Christ.
I want to hear her say my name like that every day for the rest of my life.
My dick turns rock hard. It takes every bit of my waning self-control to not give myself a quick jerk. To not hold the back of her head and make her choke on my cock like she mentioned earlier.
