Page 49 of The Wingman

“You want my fat cock in you, baby?”

“It’s all I’ve been able to think about since you’ve been gone,” I admit, and he goes lower on the bed, takes my clit into his mouth. “Oh, that’s it,” I cry out.

He nibbles on me. “I nearly lost my mind watching you touch yourself last night.”

“You liked that?”

“Yes.”

“I’d do it again,” I tease, “But I was ordered to keep my han

ds above my head.”

“That’s right, I’m in charge of your body and your orgasms tonight, babe. You don’t have to do a goddamn thing but lay back and enjoy.”

“Rider,” I say as I exhale. “But I—”

“Shh,” he says, quieting my protest. I want to get my hands and mouth on him, but following his rules, and letting him take charge comes with its own excitement. After always being the one responsible, taking care of everyone else, I could get used to this kind of treatment.

Careful, Jules.

All good things come to an end.

I let my head fall back and his mouth finds my nipples. His tongue swirls over my aching buds, and he bites down, only to lick them to ease the sting left behind. Sensations shoot through me, settle between my legs, and I whimper.

“That’s it. Make noise for me. Show me how much you like this,” he says.

I turn my head from side to side as he presses wet, open-mouthed kisses to my stomach, going lower until he finds my sex.

“Has your pretty little cunt been missing me?”

“So much,” I say, and move my hips.

He chuckles. “Need something, Jules?”

“Your mouth, please,” I say, and shock myself. This man definitely brings out another side to me.

“That’s a girl. Don’t ever hold back with me. Anything you want, I’ll give you.”

My heart lurches.

Don’t go there, Jules. Don’t think about what you might want. You can’t take that pain of loss.

He slides a second finger into my body, circles my engorged clit with his tongue, and whispers dirty words. The trifecta pushes me over the edge and I give into the pleasure pulling at me.

“Oh, Rider,” I cry out, and buck against his face, a shameless move that I’m not one bit ashamed of.

“Yeah, come all over my mouth, babe.”

I come and come and come some more, until my lethargic body is nothing but a limp doll on the bed. I try to move my arms, to pull him to me, but I can’t seem to make them work.

“Rider,” I say. “I want to touch you.”

“Keep your eyes closed. Relax, okay. I’ll be right back.”

I close my eyes, and sleep pulls at me in my post-orgasmic state. But I can’t go to sleep. I want to take care of Rider. I want to feel him inside me. The sound of water rushing in the bathroom reaches my ears, and his footsteps are soon back on my bedroom floor.

“I’m going to wash you up,” he says quietly.

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