“Y-yes. More.”
“How about this?” He dodged past her entrance again, dipping his finger inside just a fraction. Lexi went wild. God. If she was that responsive to just a single touch, how much more would she be when he set his mouth on her? When he was inside of her?
“Jesus, fuck…”
He’d never heard her use that kind of language. He didn’t think he’d really ever heard her utter foul words, with the exception of last week. It was hot. It was so fucking hot he’d have to douse them both in the lake right away to stop the combustible explosion of the century from going down.
“How about this?” He circled her clit a few times, lightly, before he pinched it. Not lightly.
Lexi’s back shot straight off the blanket. She went wild. She crashed back down, and her hips bucked into his touch. She cried out and her legs trembled on his shoulders. He got a front row seat, with popcorn and an extra-large soda, to the crazy show going down right in front of his eyes. He’d just made her come. In under a minute.
He let her pant her way to recovery before he hooked his hands under her panties and tore them down her legs hard enough to burn her. He discarded them somewhere, into the lake for all he fucking cared- she was never putting them on again- and went for round two.
He worshipped her with his mouth, careful to dodge away from her clit since she was probably still sensitive. Lexi tangled her fingers in his hair, moaning and gasping as she just about ripped out the strands. She shifted her leg higher up on his shoulder, grinding her heel into his back until it burned. She rocked her hips up, thrusting them into his face.
He let his tongue do all the work, exploring her, plunging inside of her, lapping up her juices like she was the best meal he’d ever had. Because she was. Her honeyed juices were the best thing he’d ever had the pleasure of tasting and he’d dined in some pretty high class establishments over the years. She was it. The end of his fucking world. The end of life as he knew it. He was arrogant enough to think that if he could just show her that he wasn’t an asshole and had a pretty good skill set that didn’t pertain to business, she’d realize that maybe they could work. That maybe she didn’t need to keep looking. That maybe she’d found what she wanted. He didn’t count on her ruining him for anyone else. Past how he’d already been ruined, that was.
He was the one feasting on her and she was the one ruining him.
He knew she was close when her entire body started trembling and vibrating and her hips rocked up and she rode his face. Of course, he pulled back, becoming the jerk she’d accused him of being.
Her legs locked around his neck, drawing him back in when he thought he’d torture her by stopping. Her calves tighten, nearly cutting off his oxygen. She knew him well enough to anticipate his every move and it was hot as hell.
“If you stop, I’ll choke the life out of you with my legs and drag you down to the lake and weigh you down with rocks so they’ll never find the body.”
“The only problem with that is that I told everyone where we were going.”
Lexi let out a shocked gasp of indignation. “You did not!”
“I did tell my sister and my parents. This would be the first place they’d look.”
“I’ll stage it to look like a boating accident then.”
“How very original.”
“Just- just get back to what you were doing.”
“Why? Do you like it?”
“No. Not at all. You give the worst orgasms that I’ve ever had in my life.”
He decided to punish her for her snarky reply, even though he wasn’t expecting anything less and of course, her sass thrilled him. Her hips went wild and she let out a garbled whimper as he placed his hand on her flat stomach, locking her in place.
He proved to her, in no uncertain terms, with his tongue, lips, teeth, and fingers, that he did indeed give good orgasms. Two more times.
After, he untangled Lexi’s legs from around his shoulders and propped himself on an elbow to look down at her. She was wilted right into the blanket, sweaty, her hair a tangled mess, panting, flushed, and spent. And absolutely gorgeous under the sliver of moonlight painting her in silver. A vision of ethereal beauty.
“You made enough noise to scare the neighbors across the lake.” He smirked at her when she opened her eyes and gave him a death glare.
“They’ll blame it on the frogs.”
“Doubtful.”
“The wolves then.”
“What wolves?”
“The bears.” She propped herself up on her elbows, not at all self-conscious about what they’d just done, and he loved that about her. That she was a spitfire. Always. There was nothing meek about her. “Let’s see if you’re so immune when the tables are turned.”