High-Heeler Wonder (Killer Style 1)

The cheeky bastard had the balls to wink at her. “Say please.” His strong hands remained glued to his thighs, unmoving and taunting her. His cock, the head slick with anticipation, stood at attention, extending out of his unzipped jeans.

Her clit buzzed in response to the many temptations he presented. As if tuned in to her euphoric discomfort, he leaned forward, his devilish mouth stopping within inches of the dark curls at the apex of her thighs. The earth stopped on its axis, waiting to see what would happen next. She dug her nails into her hips, nearly piercing the skin, in an effort to maintain control.

He blew a long, slow puff of air across the damp curls. “Say please, Sylvie.”

A fire in the Sahara couldn’t compare to the flaming desire eating away at her resistance to his bid for domination. Still, she wouldn’t give up without a fight. Centering her weight on one leg, she lifted her other foot so it rested on the couch’s armrest, giving him a front-row seat to her glistening lips. “Take off your shirt, Tony.”

He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and his fingers twitched against the denim. His tongue extended, closing the short distance between them, and slid along her slick folds, dancing along her most sensitive spot and lapping against the nub like a cat with cream. Tension swirled inside her, building with every twist and turn of his mouth. The sensation built higher and higher until her thighs tingled a warning of her oncoming orgasm. But before it could crash over her, he pulled away.

His lips, shiny with her need, turned up at the corners. “You know what you have to do.” He entered her with a single finger, rocking it against the sensitive bundle of nerves inside.

She moaned and felt herself weakening.

“Say please, and I’ll make you come so hard you won’t be able to stand.”

“You’re pretty fucking cocky.” She barely recognized her voice with its strained, breathy tone.

“Not cocky, confident.” He rubbed a series of figure eights against her G-spot, increasing the pressure with each rotation until she squirmed with pleasure. “But there’s only one way for you to find out for sure.”

Her vision darkened around the edges as her thighs thrummed. God, she was so close. She threw her head back, more than ready for the climax, but he withdrew his finger. Again.

She nearly wept.

“Please.” The word tore from her mouth in a desperate scream.

He slid two fingers deep inside and resumed his divine torment while his mouth found her clit again, sucking on the nub in rhythm with his figure eights. The world disappeared. The pressure building inside her grew fuller and fuller until she thought her body would implode under the weight of pleasure. The tingling started in her calves, zinging up her thighs and vibrating her ass before her orgasm exploded, stealing her vision and her breath.

He was right. She couldn’t stand.

Afterward, coming down from the blissful peak, she found herself crumpled on his lap, her still-hard nipples pressed against his soft cotton shirt. “Take off your shirt,” she mumbled into the crook of his neck.

His laughter boomed across the room, and he yanked the shirt over his head. In the next breath, he swiveled her on his lap to face him. He wove his fingers through her damp hair, claiming control, and tipping her head back as he nipped, licked, and kissed his way down her throat.

Her catlike bonelessness gave way to sensations that left her breathless in the best way possible. Excitement swirled through her, revving her heart to autobahn speeds.

When he dipped between her breasts, she grasped his head and pushed his luscious mouth away. “Pants. Off.” She slid off his lap and stood. “Now.”

A lust-induced haze had overtaken his brown eyes and a confused wrinkle divided his forehead.

“Poor baby. I know just how you feel.” She unsnapped his jeans and dropped to her knees. “I promise to make it better…after I make it worse.” She shoved down his pants.

With his jeans pooled around his ankles, she cupped his balls and tugged lightly. Her other hand wrapped around his cock’s base, her fingertips unable to meet. Leaning forward, she nestled his cock between her boobs and rocked. The bulbous head emerged from between them and she licked the end with a flat tongue.

He groaned low, and his hips arched forward.

“Not yet.” She lapped at him again. “I warned you it would get worse.”

Sylvie was killing Tony with her pink tongue and devilish doe-eyed look. Fucking killing him. He had never been happier. That alone should have forced him to come clean and put an end to the lie before things went any further.

A better man would have. But he had a sinking feeling this would be their last night together. She’d kick him out of her life as soon as he confessed. And if he was out the front door in the morning, he had to take this opportunity to plead his case with his body, beg for mercy, and tell her he loved her with his touch—even if he couldn’t speak the words out loud. Not yet. Saying them before he’d set thi

ngs right would tarnish the words. And she’d never believe them after he’d told her what he must.

Her silky smooth hair slid along his thighs as she engulfed him, and logical thought turned to fumes. Warm. Wet. Heaven. A vibration low in her throat danced up his cock and his balls tightened. Tension built at the base of his spine. It took every ounce of self-control to pull her up to his lap before his eyes crossed permanently.

Fire singed him where her pointed nipples pressed against his heated skin as she straddled him. The need to toss her down, drive inside her warmth, and mark her as his roared to life. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he clamped down on the urge. “Got to slow down.”

“Not this time. No planning. No eating first. No thinking out every angle. This calls for immediate action.” Her words tickled his earlobe. She slid open a drawer and pulled out a condom. “I need you inside me.”