Page 29 of Troublemaker
She was ready for me.
Moving my mouth a little lower, I stroked my tongue—gently at first—over it, delighted as it pulsed against my tongue. I was ecstatic as a high, feral groan sounded above me, making me look up from what I was doing.
“Feels good, sweetheart?”
“I thought I wasn’t—supposed to—talk,” she sassed on short, gasping breaths.
Oh, this troublemaker. I grinned against her.
“You can answer me when I ask you questions. But the sassing—well, troublemakers who sass get punished for it.”
Capturing her clit between my lips, I bit down, firm but not hard, rewarded by how her whole body froze, then shook. Her release filled my mouth, so sweet and succulent and rich, drenching me. I continued to work her clit between my teeth and tongue, holding her hips tight, listening as she cried out:
“Daddy, daddy, oh god, daddy,” as she came.
The sounds of her cries were even sweeter than she tasted.
“That’s right,” I murmured, pressing a small kiss to her trembling clit, wishing it was her lips, and watching the glazed daze in her eyes as she continued to come. “Daddy…god…either works. Do you know how hard you’ve made me, tasting you this way? I’m gonna fuck this pussy so hard.”
“Please, please, please,” she begged.
“Not yet,” I said, in that same unfamiliar voice. But then nothing about myself was familiar at this point. I didn’t know who I’d become, but with the taste and smell of Lucy all over my lips and face, I didn’t give a shit. Later, there’d be regretand recriminations, and maybe that extended visit to the police precinct. For now, there was only Lucy: blood-stained thighs trapped in my hands, lying underneath me, pupils blown with desire and need. Desperate for me. Only for me, because she was mine.
For now, she was mine.
The knowledge that she might not be forever made me grip her thighs tighter, likely leaving bruises. “You can give daddy a few more, can’t you?” I asked, not waiting for an answer when I dove back in, this time pointing my tongue and aiming it between her pussy lips so I could taste even more of her from the inside. And oh, fuck. Oh fuck, but she was so goddamn tight, her walls clenching around my tongue as I thrust it inside, sweeping it around, licking up everything I could find, playing with her. If she gripped my tongue that tight, what would she do to my cock?
My cock pulsed, balls hard and heavy like boulders, complaining because they wanted in on the action.
Lucy was crying, whimpering, screaming above me, staring at me with begging and unbelieving eyes as I stabbed and poked at the inside of her. Her clit was fat, red, swollen now, begging for more. Because my tongue couldn’t be in two places at once, I released one of her thighs.
“Do not move,” I ordered, and used my free hand to push a finger into her cunt, returning my tongue to her desperate, needy, hard little clit.
Fuck, so tight. So perfect.
For me.
And only for me.
I didn’t realize I’d spoken out loud until I heard her repeating, “only for you,”—the three most satisfying words I’d ever heard in the English language.
I replaced one finger with two, turning and curving them so I could reach her g-spot and rub while I licked her clit inrelentless circles, triumphant when her cunt started spasming around those two fingers, watching as desperate pleasure made its way across Lucy’s face.
“Too much,” she whimpered.
“Then it’s perfect,” I corrected, not easing up, not giving her a break, as I continued to stroke her from the inside with my finger and the outside with my tongue, watching and listening as she fell over the cliff into her third, fourth, and fifth orgasms.
By the sixth, she’d fully submitted, lax against me, a ragdoll on the bed as she begged and warbled and whimpered nonsense. Begging me to stop, begging for more, begging for less.
She’d also loosened up quite a bit. Enough that my cock, ready to throw a mutiny, could finally get its turn.
Releasing her legs, I leaned down, capturing her trembling chin between my thumb and forefinger and lifting it so I could stare into her eyes.
Tears poured out, concerning me for a moment.
“Sweetheart, I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“You did,” she whimpered, before begging, “Do it again.”
