Page 115 of Dear #47, You're the Worst
“Yeah?” I ask, switching to the other nipple. “You like that?”
She gasps, then lets out a full-bodied moan. It echoes around the room, dirty and desperate. It heats my blood.
“You are such a tits guy,” she accuses, breathless.
I look up at her and smirk, mouth still wrapped around her nipple. “Not true. I’m an everything guy.”
She laughs, but it dissolves into another moan as I move down, kissing her sternum, her ribs, the delicate skin of her stomach. I stop at her bellybutton and swirl my tongue around it, feeling her shudder.
When I get to her hip bones, I pause, hands planted on her thighs to hold her in place.
“Want me to stop?” I tease.
“Don’t stop,” she pants. “Please.”
I spread her legs and look down at her pussy, just to torture her. She’s soaking, folds slick and glistening. I drag my fingers through her wetness, circling her clit, then spreading her wider so I can see everything. She tries to close her legs but I hold her open, loving the way it makes her blush.
“Look at you,” I marvel. “You’re pussy is a goddamn masterpiece. So fucking wet and ready for me.”
“Ohgod.” She moans as I lick her inner thigh. “You’re killing me, Huxley.”
I lower my mouth and lick, starting slow, just the tip of my tongue flicking at her clit. She jerks, every muscle going tight. I hold her down, licking harder, then sucking her clit between my lips and letting it go with a pop.
“Fuck—” she gasps, hips rolling, trying to chase the sensation.
I bring my hand up, pressing two fingers against her entrance, teasing just a little before sliding them inside. She’s hot and so fucking tight I have to work my way in, curling my fingers to find the spot that will drive her insane.
The second I touch her g-spot, she goes rigid, back arching off the mattress.
“That’s it,” I murmur. I work her clit with my tongue for a moment. “Let go, Monroe. Come for me like a good fucking girl.”
She does. Her whole body clenches. She comes hard, noise raw and guttural. I keep going, licking and stroking, not stopping even as she trembles beneath my hands.
She pants. I look up at her. “You like me telling you that you’ve been good, don’t you?”
Juliet sucks in a breath, turning pink, and nods slowly. I reward her by humming against her flesh, burying my face against her hot pussy. She groans and bucks her hips, unable to move her arms.
She’s not just tolerating my being a fucking caveman. Shelikesthis. That stirs something deep inside me.
I grin, fingers still moving inside her, and go back down. This time I fuck her channel with my tongue, spearing in and out, savoring the taste of her. She claws at the sheets, hands bound and trembling, making desperate little noises.
“Mmm. You taste so fucking good, Firecracker.”
The second orgasm hits her even harder. She screams, actually screams, and I’m pretty sure my neighbors are going to hate me forever.
Fuck them. They’re not Juliet Monroe, with the glorious, golden pussy. I want to live in this moment for fuckingever.
Her legs go limp, but I’m not done. I give her a minute, kissing her inner thighs, then start again, this time with just my mouth. I circle her clit, slow and steady, and her whole body shakes.
“Hunter—” she warns, voice already breaking.
“Tell me to stop,” I say. I kiss her clit, my face messy, unable to smell anything but delicate citrus and heady sex. “Say firecracker.”
She doesn’t stop me, just moans again. I forge ahead, focusing solely on her clit this time. She’s already trembling, quaking, after the first two rounds. She slides her hands into my hair and whines.
“I can’t.” Her breath comes in gasps. “Hux, I–”
I just hum against her, the vibrations passing from my mouth to her glistening clit. She contorts and bucks against my mouth. I glance up and see Juliet with her mouth open, eyes clenched shut, a groan rattling from her chest.
