A Million Dirty Secrets (Million Dollar Duet 1)

“Mmm, you like that, don’t you?” He flattened his tongue out, taking a long lick from my opening to my clit, where he resumed his suckling.

“That’s … sweet Jesus. So amazing,” I groaned through heavy pants.

My chest heaved and my grip on his hair tightened as I pulled him toward me with each grind of my hips into his face. He hummed in appreciation, apparently approving of the fact that I was showing him what I liked most. His fingers left my opening and I whined in protest, but then I saw that he had a spoon full of ice cream. He smirked before dropping a small dollop right on my clit. I gasped at the chilling sensation against my overheated nub and nearly lost all of the control I had. Noah bit down on his bottom lip as he watched my reaction and then surged forward, roughly devouring my pussy and licking it clean of the sweet cream.

A coil was beginning to tighten in the pit of my stomach, and I recognized it from the bath earlier. Every muscle in my body tensed and my thighs were involuntarily trapping his head between them. Seriously, it was like my pussy had morphed into a Venus flytrap, unwilling to let the awesomeness that was Noah Crawford’s face escape.

Noah sucked harder on my clit and then shook his head back and forth, which just about sent me over the edge, but then he buried his face as close as he could between my legs, licking, sucking, moaning, and humming. His fingers moved in and out, curling back and forth. I couldn’t take it anymore. Feeling him, seeing him, hearing him—it was too much. Like sensory overload or something equally mind-numbing.

My whole body shuddered as the coil finally sprang free and my eyes squeezed shut. Blue and black spots flickered behind my eyes as I bit my bottom lip and moaned out my orgasm. Wave after wave pulsated through my body as Noah continued to lick and suck. When the intense pleasure finally subsided and my body relaxed, he stopped and looked up at me while licking his lips.

“There. All better?” he chuckled with the sexiest grin on his face.

“Mmm-hmm,” I barely eked out, nodding my head like only an idiot would.

He sat back in his chair, remnants of the ice cream and my juices glistening on his chin. I was so mortified that I actually blushed. I mean, that much wetness couldn’t be normal, could it?

“Pussy à la mode—my favorite.” He grabbed his napkin, wiping his mouth and chin.

I pulled the shirt down to cover myself and hopefully some of my embarrassment, and blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“You still haven’t had my cherry,” I said suggestively.

Noah let out a hearty belly laugh, rubbing his hands over that pretty, pretty face, which had been buried in my vajayjay just minutes before. I’d come down those stairs wanting to see him pissed, but this was so much better.

“Eager, are we?” he asked. “Well,” he shrugged his shoulders and then slapped his thighs as he stood and hooked his thumbs under the band of his fuck-her-wear. “If that’s what you really want …”

Realization smacked me like a Mack truck and my eyes widened as my legs instinctively snapped closed. “No!” I shouted, louder than I probably needed to. “I’m … I’m still sore.”

It was an outright lie. I knew it. Double Agent Coochie knew it. And, more important, he knew it.

“Is that right? Hmm, well I could always make you,” he said, using that husky voice that made my insides dissolve into a puddle of goo.

He took a step toward me and lifted my chin to give me a soft kiss, and then another, and one more. His hands roamed over my shoulders, down my arms, and around my waist as I fought to keep my whorish thighs from opening up to invite him in.

Noah broke away and trailed kisses along my jaw to the sensitive spot below my ear. “Soon,” he whispered as he cupped my face in his hands and took my bottom lip between his.

He pulled away and cleared his throat. “I have some work to do tonight if I’m going to be able to take you shopping tomorrow,” he said, running his hands through his hair. “You can do whatever you want in the meantime.”

With that, he walked away and left me sitting on the table, stunned to silence, in a postcoital haze, and wearing nothing but his shirt.

Noah

I had to get out of there.

Her taste and smell were everywhere, and she was sitting there in my goddamn shirt, looking sexier than she had any right to be. And to top it all off, she was offering me her fucking cherry.

Did she not have any clue whatsoever about the amount of restraint it took for me not to impale her with my cock right then and there?

But she had to have still been sore, and ramming my dick into her unabashedly wasn’t going to do anything but make that situation worse. Which also meant I’d have to wait even longer to do it again. And once I had her there was no way I was going to be able to keep myself from taking her over and over again, on every surface in the house. And my house, much like my cock, was pretty damn big.

Control. I had to maintain control and have a little more patience. All good things come to those who wait. Right?

I sat down at my desk and brought the fingers that I’d had inside her tight little pussy to my nose, inhaling her scent once again. Yes, it was a masochistic move, worse than any other sort of torture imaginable—other than maybe having to watch someone else fuck the shit out of her right in front of me—but I couldn’t resist the allure of eau de Delaine.

I suddenly became aware of the massive hard-on I had been sporting since she walked into the dining room wearing nothing but my fucking shirt. I groaned at the pain my rock-solid dick, twisted and mangled into a very uncomfortable position, was causing me at that very moment. I reached my hand into my underwear and winced as I pulled my cock out. I could’ve used it to drill a railroad tie.

I couldn’t very well let it stay like that. I’d never get any work done with that thing waving in my face, especially with Delaine’s taste still on my tongue and her smell still lingering on my fingers and in my whiskers.

I reached inside the top drawer of my desk and pulled out the bottle of lotion I had stashed there.

I squirted a generous amount into my palm and ran my hand up and down my shaft. I closed my eyes and imagined my million-dollar baby, still clad in my shirt, on her knees in front of me while I sat at the table. My thumb swept over the head of my dick and I hissed, picturing the flat part of her tongue making the motion instead as she scooped up the pre-come. She closed her eyes and moaned as she tasted me.

Her tongue swept across her bottom lip in anticipation of more while her greedy little mouth devoured my cock and swallowed me down. I could feel the back of her throat constrict around the tip of my dick as she moaned and bobbed her head up and down. My hand kept time with the imaginary Delaine’s movements. Faster and tighter I stroked myself, and I recalled the night I fucked her mouth, my cock sliding back and forth through her perfectly pink and pouty lips.