Inked in Lies (The Fallen Men 5) - Page 82

“Oh, my God,” she whispered brokenly as she almost scrambled to get into position, as eager as I was to get her hand on her pussy. “Nova, please.”

“Please what, baby?” I asked innocently, even though I could read her desire in her face clear as graffiti tagged to a blank wall.

“Please, touch me,” she begged in a pretty, soft voice that wrapped desire around my cock like a silk ribbon.

“No, enjoyin’ you like that, writhin’ and pantin’ after my cock. You ever heard the sayin’ patience is a virtue?”

“Virtue is a grace, and Grace is a little girl who wouldn’t wash her face,” she finished with a scowl.

I laughed, humor movin’ through the lust and tangled in a fuckin’ heady cocktail that only my Li girl had ever served me.

“Be a good girl and come for me on your fingers,” I said. “And we’ll see.”

And fuck me, but I learned she could take orders well.

Brow knotted, she got to her knees so she could pull her little thong to the side, dippin’ two fingers in her sex, and grindin’ onto her thumb with the pulse of her hips. Sweat beaded on her crown, sapphire gemstones in the blue lights. I traced the wet roll of it between her perky, swollen breasts down the slope of her belly to the bare skin above her groin.

Unbidden, a drunken thought marked itself on my conscious.

A tattoo.

A small, coral rose to represent passion underscored by the words ‘read my skin.’

’Cause I understood more in that moment watchin’ Lila writhe for me than I ever had before that one’a my skills was her.

Knowin’ her, readin’ her, fuckin’ lovin’ her even if I’d never done it before like this.

But this was no different.

I could see the tempo of the pulse in her neck, the increasin’ tide of her hips crashin’ against her hand. I knew she loved the rough abrasion of my voice givin’ her orders and the sight of my thick cock weepin’ precum over my tight fist.

I knew she could orgasm just from my voice puppeteerin’ her to come.

She made a man feel like a fuckin’ god, and I wasn’t goin’ to let her worship be for nothin’.

“Ride that hand for me, gorgeous,” I grunted as my fist started flyin’ over my shaft. “Let me hear the wet slide of your fingers in that graspin’, greedy pussy.”

She cursed a string of barely coherent words in Spanish, eyes so heavy lidded they were almost closed, mouth open and damp with her pantin’ breath.

“Come for me, Li, show me exactly what I’ve been missin’,” I ordered thickly.

And fuck me, did she come.

She broke open on a throaty cry dredged up from the depths of her belly, head tossed back so the long line of her golden throat was exposed. Her hips juddered against her hand, and the wet, sticky noise of her comin’ all over her hand could be heard even above the swell of music.

I watched her unravel like a dandelion caught in a heavy breeze and, knowin’ I’d done that, I brought her that pleasure and controlled the thrash of that precious pulse, I came too.

I grunted hard as my desire seared down my spine, gripped my balls in an iron vice, and wrung them dry. As I spilled onto my fist, Lila recovered enough to crawl off the stage and kneel at my feet, eyes hot and avid as they track the semen spittin’ from the head of my angry, red cock.

She laid her head on the end of my thigh, close enough to watch as I tugged leisurely on my flaggin’ dick in the comedown. I put a hand on her silken hair and combed my fingers through it.

We were silent, the air thrummin’ with the aftermath of our electric chemistry, heavy with the scent of salt and sex. It wasn’t awkward. We were languid with expended lust, sleepy with drunkenness.

And it felt somehow right that Lila should be prone at my knees, her eyes closed as she leaned into my pettin’ touch like a cat, a low purr workin’ through her throat.

I closed my eyes, tipped my head, back against the booth, and enjoyed the moment, ’cause Lord knew, nothin’ this good ever lasted.

LILA

I fell asleep in the cab on the way home.

Booze had made my body hot and heavy, but the cyclonic orgasm Nova had wrecked me with using just the sound of his voice and the sight of his meaty, club-like cock in his fist made me incoherent and utterly wrung out.

So I didn’t notice we were back at his apartment until he was laying me in bed. I murmured sleepily as he sat me up to divest me of my dress, but I stirred to full wakefulness when he sat behind me and gently began to thread my thick hair into a braid.

Tags: Giana Darling The Fallen Men Erotic
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