Page 8 of The Lists (Not Broken 1.50)

I gave it a few shakes before pressing the nozzle.

Ginger jumped when the first spray hit her skin. “Oh, that’s cold!”

I ignored her complaint as I continued to release the whipped cream until I was satisfied with the mini mountain that now sat atop one of her breasts, then I repeated the action on the other side. To finish it off, I grabbed two cherries from the bowl and pushed them into the whipped cream.

“Baby, I’m liking this.”

Ginger shook her head and laughed. She arched her back and smiled. “They look good. Maybe I should talk to Mitch about a boob job.”

The corners of my mouth tugged downward. “Don’t you dare. I love every inch of you as you are.” I moved up and kissed her, careful to keep our bodies separated so I didn’t mess up my creation.

Dropping the can on the bed beside me, I turned my attention back to the bottle of caramel. I started at the valley between her breasts and left squiggles down her body, and stopped right above her navel. I picked up the whipped cream again, circled her belly button, then stuck a cherry in the center.

I licked my lips when my gaze drifted between her legs. She had them parted and her arousal was as evident as mine. Our eyes met. Damn, she was beautiful. Mouth open, her tongue peeking out between her lips. No request needed to be spoken. My Ginger spread her legs wider and dropped her head back onto the bed. I trailed my fingers up the inside of her thigh, stopping at her bare sex.

I squeezed a line of caramel down the path my finger had taken. The sweet confection broke off into separate drops as gravity took over. She let out a soft huff when my tongue made contact with her skin. The sweetness from the syrup mixed with the heady scent of her arousal filled my nostrils as I licked my way up her thigh. Her legs opened wider. I kissed one side, then the other.

“Please, Malcolm.” Her breathy request, a direct magnet to my dick, drew me toward the temptation she so eagerly put on display.

After squeezing more of the topping onto my finger, I smeared a thin line down one side of her smooth lips, then the other. “Whatcha want, baby?”

I sucked the remaining stickiness off my finger before I circled her clit. An appreciative response in the form of a drawn-out moan and the rocking of her hips set my body on fire. I’d never tire of this—exploring her body and discovering new ways to pleasure her. My life’s goal was to leave no part of her untouched.

“Mal…”

I continued to make lazy circles around her stiff nub. “Tell me.”

“You.”

I blew across her heated skin. “Me what?”

She looked down at me through narrowed eyes. “Your mouth. Now.”

I laughed at the frustration in her voice. I loved bringing out this side of her, making her beg—no, demand what she wanted. I placed her legs over my shoulders and put an end to our torture. My mouth lavished attention where she wanted it most, licking away the sticky sauce mixed with her arousal.

Ginger writhed beneath me, grabbing onto my head as she pushed forward in her silent demand for me to give her more. I closed my lips around her clit and sucked on the swollen flesh. My tongue pushed forward, penetrating her as far as it would go. Her hips rocked and she gyrated against my face to take what she needed.

And I loved it.

With my hands under her ass, I lifted her to get a better angle. I ran my tongue along her slit before giving quick flicks to her nub. My fingers dug into her supple flesh as I continued to lap at her decadent folds. Tanginess mixed with sweet delight ignited my taste buds. Airy pants and low mewls vibrated in my ears. She was close. I ducked my head, thrusting my tongue in and out of her body.

Her back arched, her legs stiffened around my head, and with a strangled “yes,” her orgasm hit. The grip on my hair tightened as she rode it out. I kneaded her soft globes and kept working, taking pride in her garbled words and the vise hold her legs created, until she begged for a reprieve. Eventually her body relaxed, and she untangled her fingers from my dreads. I rose onto my knees above her. Her chest lifted and fell with her heavy breaths. The whipped cream mountains on her breasts had slid down the sides, and she looked at me with a satisfied grin. Taking the cherry from her belly button, I swirled it in the remaining cream surrounding her navel.

Ginger parted her lips, allowing me to place the fruit in her mouth. I swooped in for a kiss, reveling in the taste of the sweetness from the cherry, caramel sauce, and her—my favorite flavor. Our mouths remained connected when I shifted and placed my aching dick at her opening.

She broke free and arched her back when I entered her slowly. The way her body opened for me, taking me in while I prolonged both our sweet agony…absolute perfection. Like puzzle pieces, we fit together. I didn’t move and took a minute to relish in the feeling of our joined bodies. She gazed at me with love-filled eyes, a look which always made my heart skip a beat. She was mine.

I eased back, then pushed forward again. The warm sheath of her body surrounded me in pure bliss. Ginger wrapped her legs around my waist, her hands venturing down to my ass. Her cue. My pace increased.

My muscles contracted with each thrust into her body. Her head rolled from side to side and her nails dug in. The glorious bite from them was a welcomed pleasure. Low whimpers vibrated past her lips.

Her walls tightened around me and her body stiffened before the shudders took over. I kept pumping, the feel of her orgasm pulling me closer to my own. I grabbed the top of the mattress and buried my face in the crook of her neck; her intoxicating scent filled my senses.

I nipped and sucked at the salty skin. She let her fingers dance across my back, whispered touches that seeped into my soul and drove me forward. Ragged, warm bursts of air hit the side of my face, and her low moans tickled my ear. She lifted her hips, meeting me thrust for thrust, her walls continuing to pulsate around my cock until my own release broke free.

Once the aftershocks subsided, I rolled off and collapsed beside her. I ran my hand across her sticky abdomen and turned to prop up on my elbow. Our breathing remained heavy, but she wore a satisfied, peaceful look. Mona Lisa smile, half-closed eyes, strands of hair trapped against her damp forehead.

The sheets were a messy mixture of melted whipped cream and sticky caramel. But after this, I’d never been so excited about needing to do laundry. I reached over and smoothed the hair from her face.

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