Blame it on the Vodka (Blame it on the Alcohol) - Page 45

Her mouth parted, begging me to kiss her.

Not yet. Something held me back. Something told me that this kiss would be more important than anything else I did to her tonight. I needed to make sure it was monumental.

Her breasts rose and fell. I couldn’t wait a second longer. I needed to see them—to see all of her. I dragged my palms down her neck, over her shoulders, taking the straps with me. The silky material caught on her hard nipples before I tugged it free.

“Years,” I muttered, pushing her dress down past her hips. “Years, I wondered what color your nipples were, what size. The glimpse in Vegas wasn’t enough.” She stood still, letting me look, letting me strip her, each of her needy breaths bringing the rosy pink tips closer to my mouth. “I wondered what they tasted like.”

“Do it,” she whispered.

I waited, dragging out the anticipation, huffing my breath across the tender bud, sending chills along her pale curves.

“Austin, godda—”

I flicked my tongue across the tip before nipping softly. Her shocked cry softened to a moan of pleasure when I gripped her hips. I held her still, dragging my tongue around one nipple, through her cleavage, to suck on the other.

“Yes. More.”

I released her nipple, promising to come back, and stood tall and in control.

“Get on the bed.”

As if she wore a suit of armor instead of nothing at all, she lifted her chin and a single brow. “What if I don’t want to.”

I raised my own brow with a soft laugh. “We both know you want to. Now get on the bed,” I ordered harder this time. “And spread your legs.”

A war between her natural dominance and doing what we both knew she wanted played out behind her eyes while I was seconds away from falling to my knees and begging her to keep going.

“Fine.”

I thought I would collapse in relief but was too consumed with each sway of her perfect tits, each flex of her muscles as she inched back against the pillows. She waited until she was stretched out like a Playboy model to comply with my last order and spread her legs.

Taking my time, I dragged my eyes up her body. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll scream until they hear you across the ocean.”

“Promises, promises.”

Her usual taunting voice was replaced by a breathy plea. I stripped my clothes with zero finesse, tossing them aside after grabbing a condom, growing harder and harder under her awed gaze. I knew I was attractive, but having the woman of your dreams look at you like that blew my confidence sky-high.

She trembled against the fluffy white comforter, like a nervous virgin sacrifice all laid out for me. It was time to claim my prize. “Do you remember what I said?” I asked, climbing up the bed between her spread thighs.

She nodded jerkily, her mouth falling open over a gasp when I swiped my fingers through her folds before shoving inside. “You’re so wet. That’s good because you’ll need to be to take all of me.”

Her hand snapped around my wrist, halting the teasing twist and turns. “Get inside me. Now,” she issued her own order through clenched teeth.

“My pleasure.” I straddled her hips and lined the head of my cock up with her opening, brushing it back and forth. “Watch,” I demanded, waiting for her to push to her elbows and see where the head of my dick pressed against her. “I want you to remember every detail of what it looks like, feels like, to have me push inside you. Watch me take you—claim you.”

Just like I promised, I slid in one agonizing inch at a time, watching her swollen cunt spread wide to accommodate all of me. I inched back out, groaning over the sight of her cum smeared along my cock before sliding all the way until my balls pressed to her ass. Pressing my hands on her thighs, I held her open wide, gliding in and out at a painstaking pace.

“Look at you. Such a good girl, taking my cock so well. Your little cunt is stretched so tight around me, I have to force myself in.”

“Yes,” she gasped, “I want you. I want more—faster.”

She squirmed, and I’d probably leave bruises from where I held her so tightly, but she never once told me to stop.

Sweat dripped down my temples, and I struggled not to rut into her like she wanted. I slid my thumb to the swollen clit between her legs, barely grazing it.

“Oh, fuck,” she exclaimed with a guttural cry.

“You’re a mess,” I moaned, gliding across her slippery bud. “Your pussy’s so wet, I can hear it sucking me back in.”

“Because I want more. I want you to fuck me,” she begged.

I brushed her clit faster, bringing her to the edge. Her hips writhed, and her head dug back into the pillow, her mouth open.

Tags: Fiona Cole Erotic
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