Page 38 of Addicted

Sobbing moans left my mouth as he kept up his pressure and pulled me harder onto his face. His mouth and tongue were relentless and showed no signs of stopping.

Everything was sensitive, every sweep of his tongue felt like I was being licked by delicious fire. I was out of my mind and being driven my overwhelming pleasure.

I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t survive another orgasm. I wailed and squirmed, grabbing at the headboard as I said the word.

“Gr-grape-grapefruit. Grapefruit.” The words were a whine.

My hips continued to rock against him, but his mouth released its abusive hold on my clit.

He began kissing my pussy lips and my thighs as I shook around his ears.

Hugh’s fingers were still deep inside me, and I rocked slowly against them, whimpering, and trying to remember how to fill my lungs with oxygen.

Pulling myself up, I dragged my shaking legs back and my pussy away from his mouth. The way he’d held me to him had me wondering if the man had gills.

I looked down at Hugh’s face, my own dripping in sweat, as I leaned against the headboard.

His eyes were full of heat.

Instead of saying I told you so, he licked his lips, savoring the taste of me.

“I need you to fuck me, beautiful.”

CHAPTER 21

HUGH

I’d never been so hard in my life. And it was all because of Denise. Just when I thought I knew what to expect, there was another surprise waiting for me.

She was an enigma.

She’d hovered over my face like she was embarrassed, almost apologetic, until I stuck my tongue inside her and lapped at her cream.

That was all it took for her to let go and become the vixen I knew she could be, her thighs tightened around my head while she moved. Her cries of ecstasy filled the room as she writhed above me.

Once she came the first time, she was uninhibited. She took what she wanted from there, hips gyrating as she fucked my face and fingers.

Then, I was the one seeing God.

All I could think of was her, the sounds she was making, the warmth of her skin and the feeling of her muscles rippling as she came over and over again, thrashing against my face.

Making her cum was my way of worshiping her. My benefaction.

Every one of her orgasms was a delicious benediction. And with each one I was more and more sure I wanted to praise this woman for the rest of my life. Lie prostrate on her altar.

She was still clutching the headboard, her face resting against it as her chest rose and fell and her body shook. My face was dripping in her sweet juices. I would’ve drowned in them if she’d let me.

“I need you to fuck me, beautiful,” I said.

I couldn’t be trusted, if I flipped her over and drove myself into her right now, I would be rough. And she didn’t need rough, not now.

She pulled her hips back and reached toward my weeping dick. I bit my tongue to stop the hiss from leaving my mouth. Jesus, one touch from her, and I was ready to shoot all of my cum onto her pretty hands.I stilled the fingers stuffed inside her.

Slowly, she fisted me, her fingers slipping up and down along my shaft. Before I could beg her to put me out of my misery, she brought her hand to her mouth and lickedher palm, her tongue swirling as she moaned against it, cleaning it.

Fuck.

This woman was mine. No other man would ever get to see this sight, feel the warmth of her skin, the feeling of her soft and wet heat.

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