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Swing and a Mishap (Summersweet Island 2)

Page 89

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Trying not to clutch the ice cream cone in my hand so tightly it crumbles and squishes all over the place, my eyes dart back and forth between Shepherd actually kneeling in front of me and the reflection of Shepherd kneeling in front of me just over his shoulder with all the zig-zagging mirrors behind him, while I also try not to squirm while he just looks at me.

“What are you—Oooh, sweet Lord,” I moan loudly when Shepherd’s hands grip my bare upper thighs and he just dives right in, nuzzling his nose against my lace-covered mound, my eyelids fluttering closed and my head thunking back against the mirror.

It takes a few seconds of him just rubbing his nose back and forth over me, whispering about how incredible I smell, until that lacy scrap of material is so wet I might need to wring it out.

“Sh-Shepherd,” I choke out a few seconds later when I can remember how to breathe again, pulling my head up to look up at him and instantly regretting it. With all the reflections of the back of Shepherd’s head bobbing and turning from side to side while he just inhales me and rubs his face back and forth over me, I almost don’t finish my sentence, but I have to. “We’re in a funhouse on the beach where someone could walk in at any minute.”

I hate myself as soon as the words are out of my mouth, especially since before we even came in here, I was searching everywhere for a private spot for us, but seriously. Anyone could walk in at any minute! That makes it kind of hard to enjoy this, and I really need to pull my shorts back up.

Shepherd pulls his head back and doesn’t even look up at me. He just stares between my thighs like someone put him in a trance, his fingers digging into the flesh of my thighs a little harder. Another gasp flies out of my mouth when Shepherd lets go of one of my legs to drag the tip of his pointer finger down my lace-covered center. When he feels how wet I am for him, he looks up from his position on his knees in front of me with a smirk.

“You did notice the ferris wheel had been stopped for a good half hour before we came in here, right?” Shepherd asks softly, dragging his finger down over the front of my thong again until I whimper and my hips churn, seeking more of his touch, really not giving a shit if anyone walks in here at this point, as he continues talking. “Palmer slipped the ride operator a hundred bucks to keep him and Birdie at the top for a while.”

It takes a lot of brain power to think about what he’s saying while he continues to rub the tip of his finger up and down over me with the lightest of feather touches. I did notice the ferris wheel had been stopped for a while, but I just assumed it was having mechanical issues or no one wanted to ride it. Knowing how protective Shepherd is of me, even though the festival is pretty much dead right now, there’s no way he would be down on his knees getting ready to do what I think he’s going to do to me if there was even the slightest chance someone would walk in here. He knows how absolutely mortifying that would be for me and not at all hot.

That finger Shepherd has been torturing me with slides under the edge of my thong between my legs, when what he’s saying finally clicks and I remember how to speak.

“Do I even want to ask how much you paid the funhouse operator so we could be alone in here?”

Shepherd slowly drags his finger holding that scrap of wet lace to the side until…

Holy shit, he’s totally looking at my naked vagina! Don’t be weird, don’t be weird, don’t be weird!

“For something like this?” Shepherd asks, licking his lips as he just kneels there, staring at me. “This is priceless, baby. I gave him my fucking credit card.”

Before I can laugh and ask him if he’s joking, I let out a strangled cry as he closes the distance and dives right back between my thighs, his tongue licking right up the center of me exactly like he did to the ice cream cone a hundred times tonight.

“Oh my God!” I shout, my head smacking back against the mirror behind me and my eyes squeezing closed when I feel Shepherd’s hands slide up higher until his thumbs slip through my wetness and part my lips for his mouth.

“Christ, your pussy tastes like heaven,” Shepherd growls before taking another long swipe with his tongue, spreading me wider with his thumbs, his breath panting over my pulsing clit when he stops just before his tongue gets to it and drives me out of my mind.


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