Page 139 of Seven Lost Summers
I sit back on my heels, still between her thighs, eyes dragging over her body.
Her tits heave beneath the thin fabric of her top, nipples hard and straining. Her thighs are clenched tight, trying to chase friction, but I don’t let her have it.
She watches me as I reach for the hem of her top, and pull it up over her head, tossing it to the floor without a word. Her bra comes next. Black lace. Thin straps. Useless fabric that’s in the fucking way. I unclasp the clip at the front, pulling it away to reveal the soft swell of her tits.
“Hands above your head,” I command her. “Palms flat against the headboard.”
She moves instantly, obeying without a word. Her arms rise, trembling as she stretches them above her head. Nails scrape across the wood as she settles into place, fingers splayed wide, body taut with anticipation. She’s wide open. Exposed. Exactly the way I want her.
“Good girl.”
I lower my head, tongue flicking over one nipple before I take it into my mouth. I suck hard, lips dragging, teeth teasing the sensitive peak until her whole body jolts.
A sharp gasp escapes her, her back arching. Her hands remain against the headboard but everything else is screaming for more.
I shift to the other breast, let my teeth catch the tip before biting down hard enough to make her flinch. Another broken moan slips free from her mouth. She writhes beneath me, trying to grind up against my chest, desperate for friction.
I flatten my palm against her stomach, pinning her hips to the mattress.
“You move one more time and I’ll stop.”
She freezes, breath caught between a moan and a plea. Her thighs press together. She’s losing control already and I’ve barely touched her.
I trail kisses down her stomach, my wet mouth dragging heat over every inch of exposed skin. Her body quivers with each pass, soft whimpers slipping out with every exhale.
Her tights cling to her hips, stretched tight over her cunt. They are already soaked through, the outline of her pussy clear beneath the thin fabric. It’s fucking perfect. Swollen. Desperate. Ready.
I kiss the top of her thigh before pressing my mouth right over the spot I know she’s aching for. The fabric’s damp against my lips, and her body jerks beneath me.
“Fuck,” I growl, dragging my mouth across the heat of her, tongue working over the wet patch. “You’re dripping.”
A helpless whimper spills from her lips as she tries to lift her hips into my mouth, chasing more.
“Did I say you could move?”
She sighs again, a breathless sound of frustration and want. Her fingers curl against the headboard. But she goes still.
Right where I want her. Ready to be undone. One filthy inch at a time.
I hook my fingers into the waistband of her tights and drag them down her legs, letting the fabric catch on her skin enough to make her squirm. Every inch I reveal makes me harder. Her panties are completely soaked, clinging to her cunt, a dark patch of arousal spreading between her legs.
Fuck. I tear them without care, the ruined lace snapping in my grip before I toss them over my shoulder like they were never worth a second thought. She’s laid out in front of me, flushed and glistening, her pussy wet and swollen, dripping for my mouth.
Her thighs fall open on instinct, a silent plea without a single word. I spread her wider so I can take in the full fucking view.
And fuck, the second I see her cunt clenching as though it already knows what’s missing, I hiss through my teeth. My body’s trying to hold back but there’s no controlling this kind of hunger.
“Shit.”
All I want is to bury my tongue in her until she screams.
But I don’t rush.
I start with soft kisses along the inside of her thighs. Long, slow kisses that go nowhere near where she needs me. Her legs shake, hands gripping the headboard harder. I watch her face. Every time I get close and don’t give her what she wants, her mouth falls open, her brows pinch together.
I’m breaking her.
Good.
