Page 87 of Pucking Wild

I gasp, pressing my hips forward, desperate for more friction.

His fingers delve between my slick folds. “God, Tess, you’re so fucking wet.”

I bite my lip, head tipped back, as I sink into the feeling of him touching me. He circles my clit, sending the warmth spiraling out across my hips. I hum low in my throat. “That feels good.”

He dips his fingers back inside me, drawing out more of my arousal to tease my clit. “What do you like?” he asks, peppering kisses down my neck. “What makes you feel good?”

“Mmm—I—I hate having my ears kissed,” I admit, distracted by his perfectly pleasurable shoulder kisses. “And don’t you dare touch my feet with anything but your hands.”

“Same.” He kisses up my neck, avoiding my ear. “No feet for me. Hard pass. And don’t tickle me either.”

I go still in his arms, opening my eyes to glance up at him.

He goes still too, his fingers still inside me.

“Tickle you?” I say with a raised brow, fighting to contain my smile.

“Yeah, a girl thought it was foreplay or something,” he replies. “I fucking hated it.”

I laugh. “Noted. Hey, Ryan?”

“Hmm?”

“Keep teasing my pussy.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he teases, and I laugh out loud. My mind is instantly flooded with images of the day we met on the beach, and he hit me with that damn soccer ball. He called me ‘ma’am’ then, too, and Rachel and I teased him.

I sink back against the wall, letting the waves of warmth wash over me as he works me with his fingers and thumb, alternating between pumping inside me and massaging my needy clit. It feels wonderful, but I need more. I sigh, brushing my hands through his hair as I steal another kiss. “That feels amazing…but I think I’ll need your mouth to come.”

“Say no more,” he replies, pecking my lips before he drops down on his good knee, his bad one bent inside his knee brace.

“Ryan,” I cry, trying to pull on his shoulders. “No—let’s go to the couch or a bed or—”

“If you think I’m going to suffer through an entire night of you in this dress and not get a taste of you just like this, you’re fucking crazy,” he says, already bunching the tulle with both hands.

“But—”

“Woman, let me work,” he shouts. “I will take you to the couch and finish you there. And if you’re very good, we may just end in the bed. But I’m tasting you right here, right now, before I quite literally die of thirst. Now, spread your legs and hold onto something.”

I’m smiling from ear to ear as I fling a hand out, reaching for the edge of the console table. I gasp, my grip on it tightening as Ryan ducks under the tulle skirt, his head disappearing beneath the pink fabric dotted with cherries.

“Ryan—”

He presses his face against my pussy with a hungry groan and I melt. He hasn’t even touched me with his mouth, and I already have jelly legs as he peppers kisses across my thighs and belly, his fingers still working my clit.

I gasp again as I feel him part me with two fingers and flick his tongue against my clit. “Oh—fuck,” I whimper, shifting my weight. Exquisite heat flashes through my core, and I instantly feel wetter. He’ll have me dripping by the end. I only pray I can relax enough to come.

He hums against my pussy, teasing with his tongue, spreading me wider to lick along my slit. “You taste so fucking good,” he says, his breath hot against my skin.

One hand grips the console table and I drop the other down to his head, hidden beneath the tulle of my skirt. “God, that feels good,” I say, my head tipped back.

His right hand continues to hold me open so his mouth can play. His left traces patterns up my thigh, circling around to squeeze my ass. He flips his hand around, his middle finger spearing me while his pointer and ring finger hold me open as he sucks on my clit.

“Fuck—god—” I try to hold still. My hips want to grind. I want more friction. “Ryan, baby, please…”

“What do you need?”

“More.”

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