Page 17 of Good Girl
“Oh of course.” I bite my lip so I don’t laugh when she furrows her brow, and her cheeks flood pink. I’ve had this woman naked, spread-eagle and fucked thoroughly, yet this makes her blush?
“You’re welcome to bake us cookies, though.” I swipe a finger through the white sticky liquid she’s stirring in a bowl. “That tastes good,” I tell her, grasping her hips and groaning when she pushes her ass back into my dick.
“It’s icing. It goes over the cookies.” She moans at our contact, setting the spatula onto a plate covered with cookies cut into Christmas-themed shapes.
“Hmmmm,” I rumble, dipping my lips to the crook of her neck and sucking over a bruise I saw Tristan leave there last night. He doesn’t fucking kiss, that man devours, so he has to be controlled to ensure he doesn’t break our toys.
She gasps, and her pupils blow wide when I spin her and lift her by the hips until she’s sitting on the counter. I love how fucking receptive she is to my touch.
Grasping the lapels of her shirt, I rip it open, the buttons falling to the floor with aclink, clink, clink.She sinks her teeth into her pouty bottom lip, her perfect breasts heaving from her rapid breathing, adoring the rough way I handle her.
She’s not wearing a bra, her nipples forming hard peaks. I grab the bowl of icing and pour it between the chasm of her tits, forcing her to lay back with a palm to her throat.
My mouth goes dry, eager to draw more dick hardening moans from her. The creamy white liquid looks like cum coating her flesh like a second skin, I want to map every inch of her withmy tongue, lips, teeth. Dumping the bowl back on the counter, I lift her legs and balance her feet on the edge of the counter, splaying her thighs wide for my greedy fucking eyes.
Her pussy is covered by a pair of Tristan’s boxer shorts that she’s tied a knot in to make them fit her waist. The second I dip a finger beneath the hem and slip into her exquisitely tight heat, her hips lift. “Say you’re my cookie,” I tell her.
“I’m your cookie.” She shudders, whimpering.
I yank a knife from the block and cut through the boxers until they fall away completely, leaving her fully on display for me.
“Do you want me to eat my cookie?” I ask her, lust feeding through my veins and hardening my cock. I smooth through the icing on her tits and navel, dragging the liquid over her little raised mound, the warmth of her body keeping the sugar wet.
“Yes, please.” She flexes her hips again, gasping when I flick her clit.
“Did I tell you to move?”
She shakes her head no, her hair swiping through a puddle of flour. She’s a messy fucking girl. “You’ve made quite the mess in our kitchen, Angel.”
“I’m sorry,” she pouts.
“Maybe I should make a mess of you as punishment.”
I slide a hand down her abdomen once more, her body bucking when I push the pad of my thumb down on her swollen clit. “I want you to beg for me to eat your naughty fucking cookie.”
“Please, please eat my cookie.” She peers at me from beneath heavy lids, her red painted nails making little half-moons in the flesh of her thighs.
“Louder.” I flick her clit, and she moans.
At her attempt to close her legs, I slap her inner thigh, the sound jarring. “You’re being so naughty today. Keep those legs open so I can see your cunt seeping in need, Angel.”
“Please touch me, sir.” I spank her pussy then lean in to swipe my tongue up her folds to ease the sting. “Oh god,” she mumbles, the sweetness of her mixed with the sugar bursting over my tongue, igniting my taste buds.
“That’s ‘sir’ to you,” I counter, pushing two fingers into her slick heat. Her back arches as I slowly pump my fingers into her swollen hole, loving the way her walls clench against me teasingly. She’s inflamed from being thoroughly used, but she’s still hungry and wants nonstop feeding, her juices leaving a delicious sheen on my fingers.
“Beg me to eat your cunt so Tristan hears you.”
“Please.” She squirms, tangling her own hair in her fingers, her voice echoing through the apartment.
“Please what?” I urge, leaning over her prone body to taste the icing from her nipples.
“Eat my needy whore cunt. I need it.”
“Again,” I demand, popping her nipple from my lips and slipping my fingers from her cunt to push them between her ass cheeks. “Tristan can’t hear you.”
“Please, please, make me come!”
Fuck me. She’s perfect.
