Page 17 of PortCity Killers

But he was already pulling me out of the shower by my arm, sitting my wet body on top of the cold counter. I yipped, wiggling before my ass slid to the edge.

I watched Bryce drop to his knees in front of me, gripping the counter like it was my fucking lifeline when he threw my legs over his shoulder like I wasn’t dripping all over his clothes at nine in the morning.

His big arms came around my thighs, holding them in place as his hands gripped each of my hips. His fingers dug into my ass, and he smiled lustfully as he nibbled on the insides of my thighs.

I leaned back against my hands; his hot breath more than I could take on my core when the rest of my body was so cold. I whimpered, my head hitting the mirror behind me.

“Bryce,” I choked as his lips moved higher and higher, “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing, baby?” he asked, stroking his lips across my lower ones, “I’m helping you get clean.”

“This is the exact opposite of getting clean,” I squeaked as he bit down on one of my outer lips, “This is very, very dirty.”

“No,” He chuckled, his warm breath hitting me, my legs instinctively spreading wider for him. “If I was telling you how much I wanted to be eating my cum out of you right now, that would be dirty.”

A small sound escaped me like a prayer, and I hoped the gods somewhere heard it because this man was going to be the actual death of me, “Please.”

“Please what, baby?” he asked, sliding the flat of his tongue over the curls between my thighs, making me pant before he nuzzled his way between my folds; the cool metal of his tongue ring slid over my clit.

“Fuck,” I cried, biting down on my bottom lip as if it would pull the sound back in.

Bryce shushed me, his lips pressing against me as he did so, making my hips jerk up to his face.

The rumble between my legs showed his amusement, but I was so tightly wound that I couldn’t do anything but let my eyes roll in the back of my head as he spoke against my center, “You wouldn’t want anyone busting in here, now would you?”

I blushed, a full body, raging blush, absolutely mortified at the idea of the only other person in the house knowing exactly what was happening in this bathroom.

I didn’t let myself think on it too hard, but pushed the thought away, grinding my hips up to meet Bryce’s tongue.

He hummed against my skin, letting a long stroke slide up my clit. I groaned, the sound pulling from somewhere so fucking low inside me I wasn’t sure it was real as his wet tongue slid hot against my folds.

My wet hands curled in his hair, pulling at his scalp. Strands slicked through my fingers, the silky blonde and browns untangling from his bun.

I looked down to find his blue eyes staring up at me, and a jolt of electric energy shot through my core. I could feel the wetness spreading as he lapped up the taste, a smirk playing on his lips.

He stood then, making me whimper at the loss of contact, but he pulled me closer to him, letting me wrap my arms around his shoulders. His hand came down between us, stroking softly.

I bucked into him, hoping against hope that he would slide his fingers into me, but he just slid them around my clit slowly. I bit my lip against another whimper, wanting nothing more than to scream against him.

My teeth came to his neck, scraping down his throat as he teased me.

“Please,” I whispered against the whorls of black ink covering his skin, “Please, daddy.”

“What do you need, baby?”

His voice was gentle, caressing even, like he was placating a stubborn child, and it should have made the warning bells in my head ring to high heaven, but all I could feel was his thick fingers, calloused and slick with my arousal circling my clit.

He danced around the bundle of nerves like he had nothing but time; his thumb dragged across it every so often, my hips lifting with it.

“I need you,” I breathed, “I need you inside me.”

He made a small agreement sound, “I would baby, I want to, but you were a bad little brat.”

“No,” I cried, stilling. I tried to pull back, but one of his hands was already in my hair, holding me to his shoulder as his fingers slid between my legs, “I wasn’t! When?”

He kept my head resting in the crook of his neck as he spoke, a thick digit pushing into me, and all I could think was:finally.

“You were supposed to let daddy take care of you, but you wanted to be a big girl and change the plan.” He curled his finger inside of me, his thumb working harder now, stroking my clit instead of dancing around it, and I couldn’t do anything but hitch my legs higher on his hips, my core tightening at the building of energy he was creating.

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