Stripped Down

He spreads me open. I don’t understand exactly how we got here, but somehow I’m hanging onto the headboard exactly like he told me and my pussy’s hanging over his face, his big hands gripping my hips and my butt, moving me so his tongue can hit me right where I need him most.

His fingers dig into my ass and he drags me forward, holding me steady. He makes a meal of me, his tongue lapping my juices, licking me everywhere. I can’t tell if he’s licking me clean or just making me dirty as hell, but I love it. I get a death grip on the headboard as my knees give out.

“I won’t let you fall,” he promises me.

I believe him. He’s got me, I know it, and I’d relax if I could, but he makes me feel so damned good. He covers my clit with his mouth, and does something with his tongue that makes me whimper. I fucking groan and whimper, letting him own me and the moment. It feels that good.

And then he blows, and I’m about to detonate.

“Angel.” I moan his name, but he’s the devil and not my savior because the bastard laughs and slides a finger inside me. He’s fingerbanging me and I’m loving it, almost loving him, which puts me in the danger zone. I’m too close to something, and I need to pull back, but the bright shock of pleasure that throbs to life in me has me focused on just one thing. Coming.

“Apples,” he growls. “You smell like apples. I like that.”

I want him to tell me he likes me, but then he swirls his tongue around my clit, and it’s almost two much. I dig my fingers into the wooden headboard, twisting, seeking more. And he gives it to me, pushing a finger deep inside me. I tighten around him, bearing down, clenching with everything I have. He tunnels deeper into my body, pulls back. His finger curls against a secret, hidden spot and the pleasure detonates through me. I’m coming apart. I can’t hold myself together.

So good. So dirty, so bad.

His tongue swirls harder around my throbbing clit, pressing, pushing. I hang onto the bed and ride his wicked, wicked mouth. My Angel. The tension builds fast and painfully sweet, tiny shocks rippling through my pussy. I’m coming for him.

“Now,” I groan, and that one word sounds like a plea and not a command. He twists, jackknifing upright, and I hear the welcome sound of a foil packet ripping open. He places the broad, condom-covered head of his dick at my opening.

The grin he gives me is downright feral. “You taste sweet.”

There’s nothing sweet about me. Not really. The sweet is all on the outside, like the honey you daub on a fly trap before you lure the unwanted insects in and squash them. Men like me, but they don’t know me. They just want to fuck me, and I’m fine with that. When you’re the one who owns the orgasms, who says when and where and how the other person comes, you’re the one with all the power. My pussy ripples, clenching on nothing.

“Take me,” I tell him. “Don’t talk. Move.”

My dirty-talking, domineering Angel would be even better if he came with a mute button. He just laughs, not done playing with me.

“You’re gonna wait for me,” he promises darkly, shoving himself inside me. I’m tight, he’s large, and it’s a stretch. From the satisfied look on his face, he knows all these things, and he’s such an asshole because he likes it. Likes knowing I’ll be sore tomorrow and won’t go a minute without thinking of him pounding me good. God, he’s so big, and so there. When I let go of the headboard, he retaliates, threading his fingers through mine and pinning them to the pillow as he thrusts home in one hard, fast stroke.

Oh. God.

My hips speak for me, slapping up to meet his, making demands. “Faster.”

“Ask nicely, darling.” The smile that twists his gorgeous mouth isn’t pretty. He’s thinking about making me beg—and I just might do it. He has me right on the edge, ready to come. He gives me what I need. He drives his dick into me, his gaze sliding over my body as he takes me. The tension builds in me, my pussy tightening on him, taking him all the way.

I think I whisper please.

“Now,” he orders, slamming into me and finding my clit with his fingers. “Give it up.”

I come, white-knuckling the pillow and his grip. It’s so good and there’s no holding back. I arch up into him, hips pumping, and he gives it to me as well. My gaze locks onto his face helplessly, my body riding the wave of pleasure he controls. His gaze is fiercely possessive. I’m his right now and we both know it.

But he’s mine, too. I clench down on him, holding him to me deep inside my body, and he comes too. He’s lost in me, his hips pounding mine as he thrusts harder and faster. When he loses control, I’m watching, my breath tearing from me in harsh pants, but I’m watching. I see him come, his orgasm making him shake and press against me. And for just a moment, he softens. I feel it, see it.