Page 50 of Flint

Swear to God, she actually said that “shame” shit. Twice.

So here I am, going balls to the wall when it comes to Flint. A man I really know very little about. He’s got a job, he’s important in the club, and he can be a jackass more times than not. I don’t even have a clue about his real name, but does that even matter? Took me a bit to know my own. And he knows enough about the both of us to put a kibosh on this whole thing if it’s a mistake. Right?

Anyway, not questioning what we’re about to do. And you can judge me all you want. Just like most people around here, I don’t know you nor care what you think. I’ve known him my whole life. Sure, my life started three weeks ago in my mind, but that still counts.

That, that right there, is the mini freak-out I’m going through. I don’t want to ruin what I’ve got with him. He’s been a constant in my mind and life. Even when he was gone for the majority of those three weeks, I saw Flint in everything I did. From Gator watching over me to just the simple things like my fridge always being stocked with Diet Coke, though I never went to the grocery store. I know that was him. Not sure how, but I do.

I’ve been doing a lot of talking and watching shows, mostly because what else am I going to do around here or at the club? And what I’ve learned is that sex can complicate things. I’ve seen a vamp worship a brother only to watch them fall from his top favorite spot within a few days. The movies—not many are chick flicks since Gator refuses to watch that shit, his words—even have a few romance points in them. Those with the sex, well, they always end up dead. But that seems to be the whole point in Bond movies. Screw the girl, she dies, no commitments, find next girl. Not saying I’m going to die after having sex, but I think you get what I’m thinking.

“Come here.”

And now the thinking stops. When a man growls at you like that, you really think you can concentrate on anything anymore?

With crazy-fast hands, my pants are pulled down to my knees and then off. And would you look at that? He even grabbed my undies too. Talk about straight to the point. His hands are a bit rough, but God, do I love them as he places one on each knee and slides them up to my apex.

I’m resting on my elbows, using the leverage to watch, but as he gets closer, I throw my head back and groan in pleasure. Feels so good, and we haven’t even done anything yet. This has got to be a good sign that this is going to be a great night for me.

“Is your pussy hair in the shape of a heart?”

Oh shit, I forgot about that. I look back at him and see him smiling as he massages the part where my hips and legs meet. He just keep staring at it, and I’m both turned on and embarrassed as hell. An interesting combination.

“Yeah, well, I guess I was the type who did that before. So when I was able to take a shower, I sort of just kept it up. Is that not a normal thing?” Jesus, I never even thought to ask. I just sort of did what I thought it was meant to look like. Am I a complete freak? Will he go running now?

“Damn. Thought I saw every type of pussy there was. Never saw a heart shape before.”

His words don’t put me off. They make me leak a bit. Not like I peed, but you ladies get it. You feel parts of yourself flowing, and the heat in his eyes intensifies, so I know he can see it.

“Don’t do much tasting, but damn do I want to now.”

He pushes my legs wide, almost up to my elbows, as he starts licking straight into my pussy. I shudder at the onslaught and fist my hands, not really sure what to do with them. He keeps going, flicking his tongue over a sweet spot at the top, and my elbows give out until I’m lying back. My view is only the ceiling, but I don’t give a fuck right now.

He grabs my left hand and moves it to hold my thigh. I nod in understanding. He never asked me a question, and I don’t even know if he can see me right now, but I get it. Hold my leg up. Fine by me if he just keeps doing what he’s doing with his tongue as he pushes it in and out of me. He glides his fingers down my inner thigh, circling my outer walls while his tongue flicks that top button before he pushes inside.

I groan at the sensation. I think it’s one finger, but then he does something, and I swear I can feel two fluttering about. He moans into me, and fuck if that isn’t the best sound in the world. A man groaning in pleasure while eating you out? Yeah, if I could bottle that, I would make a killing.

I’m close, so fucking close to something. I grab his head with my other hand and push him to me. He growls and nips at me, but all it does is make me moan for more. I grab his hair, not to direct but just to fucking hold on to something. I feel like I’m floating away, and that’s the last thing I want to do. I never want this to end.

With a cry, I open my eyes—no clue when I closed them—to look at him in bewilderment. “Why’d you stop?”

He pulls his fingers from inside me and uses the back of his hand to wipe his lips before sucking both fingers into his mouth. Fuck, I’m dripping again. Can’t help it. He literally stopped right when I was about to fly off that cliff, and then he sucked on his own fingers like my taste was a fucking lollipop.

“Ain’t stopping, just changing positions, Kitten. You ain’t the only one who gets to enjoy themselves.”

“You weren’t enjoying it?” I huff as I watch him stand and take off his clothes. Damn, the man is fine. Lean and muscular all at the same time. His biceps are epic, and I just want to nibble on them. Kind of like his abs and… wow, now that’s a dick.

Not going to lie, I’ve totally looked at porn since the memory issue. I’m curious, sue me. I might have penis envy or something, or maybe I’m odd, but I’ve probably seen more dick pics than the average girl. I’m not at vamp level but definitely above average. Whatever you would call it, I consider it research for the here and now. Because I can say, without a doubt, that Flint’s got a nice cock.

“Is that a Jacob’s ladder?” I ask as my mouth actually waters as I keep looking at it.

“One piercing don’t make it a ladder. And how the hell do you know that?”

I shrug, not shy in my answer. “Pornos.”

He shakes his head again at me. I think he does it more with me than anyone else. Like he said before, I’m probably doing things he isn’t expecting. Of course, I doubt porn is a normal conversation starter. I know Gator got really uncomfortable when I asked a question about it last week.

“Why do you have one?”

He stops and gives me a look. “Pretty sure it’s obvious.”

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