Page 151 of A Love Letter to Whiskey
But when she reached for her panties, it snapped me back to the fact that I had only precious time with her — and I didn’t intend to waste it.
“Leave them,” I said, shaking my head. “Turn around.”
I kept stroking myself as she spun, looking over her shoulder at me with those big, stormy eyes. I used my free hand to sweep her hair to the side, holding it tight as I kissed along her exposed neck.
God, the way she tasted, the way she writhed and panted and surrendered herself to me. It was the most intoxicating drug of my life — the addiction I knew I’d never be free of.
I released her long enough to grab her hands and guide her down, bending her at the waist and wrapping her fingers along the other side of the kitchen island. The view was nothing short of a masterpiece, her back arched, spine drawing a direct line down to her plump little ass that was poked out and waiting for me. I kissed all the way down her back and bit that juicy apple with a growl as B gasped.
I stood then, trailing my hand along her ass before I gave it a swift little pop that made the meat jiggle. B jumped, surprised, but then she gave me a satisfying moan of approval.
I held her hip with one hand, the other sliding along the lace of her G-string until my fingers slipped between her soaked lips. She was just as turned on as I was, and I slipped two fingers inside her, loving the way she writhed with the impact.
“Fuck,” I rasped, withdrawing my fingers before I slid them in again.
This pussy is mine.
I felt the possession like a curse consuming my entire body, and with a growl, I tapped the insides of her thighs. “Open.”
She obeyed, and when her legs were spread enough to allow me the access I needed, I dropped to my knees, sliding her thong out of the way so I could run my tongue along the slick slit of her. I licked all the way to her clit, moving her legs apart even more so I could suck it the way I wanted to. She trembled so hard I thought she’d fall, and I chuckled a bit as I backed up, licking all along her lips before I repeated the cycle.
B arched more, wanting my mouth on her clit, and I gave her what she needed, circling and providing the right friction I knew she needed to chase her release. Her legs quaked and her knuckles went white where they held onto my counter.
But before she could come, I released her, standing.
I thought B might actually cry when she looked back at me, but I just smirked and wiped my mouth. “Don’t move.”
I swiped my pants off the floor, digging into the pocket for my wallet. I had a condom stashed in there just in case, and I threw my pants down again once I had it, making my way back to B.
She was trying to stand, but I pressed my hand into her back before she could, flattening her against the counter once more. Then, I was right behind her, my shaft settling in the sweet spot between her ass cheeks.
We both groaned.
I ripped the condom wrapper open, covering myself with the latex before teasing her with my crown. I ran it down the length of her ass, slipping it between her wet lips and lining it up at her entrance as she arched, begging me to fill her.
But I just left it there, waiting and ready, as I bent down and grabbed as much of her hair as I could hold in a tight fist.
“All this fucking hair,” I cursed, sucking her earlobe between my teeth.
She gasped as I tugged, her back arching, gaze drifting up to the light above us.
And then I filled her, mercilessly, burying myself in her deep enough that she’d never forget who she belonged to.
I paused when I was all the way in her, both of us shaking with the feel of it, and I dropped my forehead to her back. “God, I’ve been fantasizing about my hands in your hair like this all night. And these fucking heels,” I moaned, standing straight. I still had her hair twisted in my fingers, so she arched with me as I slammed into her again.
I fucked her like I hated her, like she was everything I loathed, and like I’d die if I didn’t destroy every last inch of her. When my hands finally fell from her hair to grab her hips, I picked up my pace, loving how she cried out and moaned and begged for more.
My little surfer girl, she knew how to ride the waves.
I slowed after a while, wanting to take my time, to savor the way she stretched and opened for me with every new thrust. The way she was pressed up against the counter, her clit rubbed against the granite, and I felt her widening her legs and maneuvering her hips so she could catch more of that sweet friction.
