Fight Dirty (Black Rose Kisses 1)

They’re red and slightly swollen, and I know I look like I’m desperate for more. I half wish I could see Sloan’s face, see how he looks when he’s behind me, eating me out like I’m his last meal, but maybe it’s for the best that I can’t.

His fingers dig into my skin hard enough that I’m sure I’m going to have bruises tomorrow, and I can’t bring myself to be mad about it. Not when he’s lapping at me, working his tongue over my pussy in slow licks that alternate with a few quick ones.

“Sloan,” I breathe, saying his name and almost wishing I could take it back.

It would be impossible for me to pretend that I’m not into this. He has a front-row seat for how fucking wet I am, and he can taste my arousal, I know. All the reasons I had in my mind about why this is a terrible idea are slipping away with every lick, every time his tongue passes over my center, and I wish he would slide inside it. All I can think about is how good it feels, and how I want more.

“Sloan,” I moan again. “Fucking—stop teasing me.”

He just snorts and doesn’t do anything to speed up or slow down his pace. He stays on target, licking and sucking at my sopping wet folds, swirling his tongue around as he gets the lay of the land as it were and makes himself comfortable between my legs.

It’s a steady pace, designed to keep me turned on and needy, apparently, and it’s fucking working.

I push my ass back, trying to get him deeper, grinding on his face a bit, and he reaches up and slaps my ass in reprimand, the sound echoing around us in the otherwise empty locker room.

My moan echoes as well, and he dives back in, tongue dipping and swirling and laying claim while I shudder above him, fingers scraping against the smooth surface of the counter.

The sink is cool against my skin, a contrast to the heat of Sloan’s mouth and the scrape of his stubble as he works himself deeper, licking into me finally.

I groan with relief, and each time his tongue slides in, I imagine it’s something longer and thicker. Maybe after this it will be.

He fucks me with his tongue, spearing it in deeper and deeper, as deep as it will go, and I shake and nearly scream with pleasure, throwing a hand over my own mouth at the last second so it doesn’t give us away. The rest of the gathered members of the gang are just down the hall, and if they hear me screaming, there will be no hiding what it is we’re doing in here.

I don’t know if Sloan wants that, but I sure as hell don’t, so I try to keep my moans muffled. But it’s harder than it should be with him going to town on my pussy like it’s a feast.

I can hear the wet sounds of him lapping at my pussy, and it just adds to the debauched filthiness of this whole thing, the echoes of it bouncing around the room and mingling with the harsh rasp of my breathing.

Sloan’s tongue retreats from inside me, and I frown and nearly look over my shoulder to tell him to get back to it.

Instead of withdrawing completely, though, he takes one hand from my thigh and slides it between my legs, letting his fingers glide through the wet mess I’ve made. I swallow hard, trembling a bit at how good that feels, and when those rough fingers find my clit, my knees nearly buckle.

It feels so good. It feels better than good, and my mouth falls open on a silent groan. He pushes his tongue back into me, licking me open with an aggression that’s sexy as fuck.

His fingers move in time with his tongue, and it’s almost too much. Almost. His mouth doesn’t let up, and his fingers rub maddening circles against my clit in a way that whites out my brain for anything but the pleasure coursing through me.

It’s impossible to ignore the way it takes over everything else, washing away the anger, the frustration, the need to keep quiet. It’s so much, building and building until I can barely hold it in or hold it back.

Not that Sloan cares. He just keeps going, his mouth working overtime as he eats me out, his fingers moving with precision like he knows exactly where I’m the most sensitive and how to get me off. I’d be impressed if I had enough brain function left for anything other than attempting to process how good this feels.

His free hand comes up from my thigh to grab at my ass, spreading me open even more, making it so there’s nowhere Sloan can’t reach, and he takes full advantage of it, licking me like he wants to savor every drop.

“Fuck yes,” I pant. “Just like that. Fucking—god, yes.”

I can feel my orgasm building, starting with a searing heat in my core that spreads out, taking over my body. My legs shake and tremble just a bit, and if it weren’t for the sink counter, I don’t think I’d be able to stay standing. I don’t know if Sloan can tell how close I am, or if he’s just determined to wring every drop of pleasure he can get out of me, but he doesn’t slow down even a little. He growls low, the sound lost in the wetness of my pussy, and he presses his fingers harder against my clit, rubbing it faster while he keeps working his stupidly talented tongue.

My mouth falls open, and I almost forget to breathe as sensations spike inside me. The pleasure is like a freight train barreling down on me, making it impossible to ignore as it sweeps me up and builds higher and higher and higher.

“Ahhh!”

A breathy whine pours from my lips, and I clamp my hand back over my mouth again, keeping the noises of my pleasure from getting too loud as best I can. It’s so good, and I’m so close. I try to tell Sloan that, but I can’t. I can’t make any words come out of my mouth, and before I’m even able to brace myself for it, my orgasm hits me with full force. It knocks the wind from my lungs as I give in to it, head dropping low so I can’t see myself in the mirror anymore.

My legs shake even harder as I fall apart, panting and still trying so desperately not to make too much noise as I come harder than I can remember coming in a while. I bite down on my palm to muffle the scream, but it still echoes a bit, just enough that Sloan will clearly know how easily he took me apart.

I’d be pissed about that, but it feels too good for me to fully care. The waves of pleasure keep washing over me, and I strug

gle to catch my breath as the sharp, hot sensation melts into something warm and sweet in my veins, washing away the lingering adrenaline and replacing it with something milder, more like satisfaction.

Sloan is still his same intense self, of course, and he doesn’t give me a moment to relax. He surges to his feet and hauls me up by the back of my dress, then spins me around to face him. His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide, and I can see my own arousal shining on his lips and cheeks from where his face was buried against me.