“Aver—ah, fuck—” Every time he tried to interrupt her, she sucked harder, licked faster, and moaned louder.
“Mmm . . . mmm . . . mmm . . . ,” she hummed, drawing him slowly from her mouth with suction that pulled her cheeks against her teeth and rocked shivers through Trace’s big, strong body until his cock slipped from her mouth. “I think I have a problem.”
He lifted his head from the bed as if he could barely keep it up, his eyes dark and dazed, his chest heaving for air. “W-what?”
“I’m afraid I might have found my own addiction.” She closed her eyes, ringed the sensitive ridge of his head with her tongue, sucked him into her mouth with a hum of pleasure, then drew him out again. “Can I have this all to myself? Whenever I want it? Whenever I need it?” She stroked her tongue over him again. “Whenever I please . . . sir?”
Trace grinned, dropped his head back, and laughed.
Avery smiled and took him again, sucking the laughter into groans before saying, “This is no laughing matter. A girl needs what a girl needs.” She stroked his shaft, spiraling her hand along the wet length. “I should warn you, it might interfere with your ability to work.” She stroked him again, slowly, leisurely, letting her fingers float over all the sensitive ridges. “And have friends.” She stroked him again. “And sleep.” And again. “And eat.” She sighed. “And, oh, speaking of eating . . . why am I talking so much?”
Yes, she was in trouble. The strangest kind of trouble ever. Who knew a woman could like cock so much? Who knew pleasuring a man could be a thrill that made her dripping wet? Never in Avery’s wildest fantasies had she believed she would be a woman who would covet a man’s cock, or the owner of that cock, the way she did now.
She couldn’t comprehend any of it in the moment. She’d have to think about it later. All she could do now was devour him. Suck him and stroke him and eat him until his eyes crossed and his body shuddered and he came in a violet burst.
But Trace was doing his damnedest not to allow that to happen. He dragged at her hair and pulled at her jaw.
When she ignored him, he sat up and stroked his hands down her back. Curving over her, he whispered hot in her ear, “Avery . . . baby, gotta stop. Sugar . . . God, that’s just too good.”
Which only drove her harder.
He groaned and stroked his hands over her ass. “I’m gonna come if you don’t stop.”
He lowered his face to her back and his teeth grazed her ribs. The electric current short-circuited Avery’s rhythm. She drew him from her mouth and gasped at the sudden sensation. Before she could slide him back into the hot, wet, dark depths of her mouth where she’d decided he damn well belonged, his hand followed her spine over her ass and slipped between her legs from behind.
Her sex—swollen, wet, and aching—opened, and her body arched, reaching for his touch, which took her mouth too far from where it wanted to be. But, God, that pressure. She was helpless against her body’s need to rub against his hand as it slid along ripe folds.
“Oh my God . . . ,” stuttered out of her mouth.
Trace pushed both hands over her ass and between her legs. His fingers slid along her opening, spreading wetness, warmth, and sensation all through her lower body. Avery whimpered and lifted her hips, pushing into his hands. Then his fingers were inside her. Stretching and rubbing. Avery dropped her head to his thigh.
She was about to push him back to the bed when Trace gripped her waist and growled, “Come here.”
But the order was more a thought than an expectation because he was the one wielding her body. With the swiftest, smoothest move, Trace turned her, and Avery once again found Trace’s cock in a mouthwatering position at her lips. And the instant his warm, wet mouth closed over her sex, she realized, the same was true for him.
With a naughty thrill fueling her, Avery went back to work on Trace, while Trace’s mouth mirrored the pleasure. And Avery found it far more difficult to concentrate when he covered her pussy and relentlessly ate and ate and ate at her until she was right on the edge, right there . . . Then he broke suction, leaving her stranded and throbbing and she whimpered, “Trace . . .”
The fingers of one hand sank into her ass cheek until a bite of pain hinted. The other pressed between her legs and opened, his fingers spreading her folds. “There we go,” he murmured. “Hold on, sugar. Ten intense seconds and you’re going to scream. Put my cock in your mouth.”
She glanced back. “What?”
“Trust me. Put my cock in your mouth and keep it there.”
That was one of those request-demands that flipped an erotic switch she didn’t even know she had. And Avery eagerly impaled her mouth with his thick, hot cock.
When he was firmly embedded deep in her mouth, his tongue pressed against her exposed clit and Avery cried out at the shock of pleasure. The sound rippled over Trace’s cock, and he growled in approval and started licking the raw bud. Circle after circle after circle, he wound Avery tighter and tighter with rhythmic moans of pleasure until she, far sooner than ten seconds, spiked into an intense orgasm. Her hips bucked and her mouth spontaneously sucked while she moaned with pleasure.
The stars aligned.
Everything made perfect, beautiful, wild sense.
Until Trace pulled from her mouth.
The moment of confusion was lost somewhere in an aftershock, and then Trace was facing her again, kissing her. He covered her hand with his, pressed it against his cock and murmured, “Avery . . .”
His hips bucked, his cock surged, and the power of his climax, the wild roll and thrust of his pleasure beneath her hand while his guttural sounds of pleasure filled her ear, brought to mind the memory of a summer thunderstorm from her time in Virginia . . . as it might feel from inside a glass house.
And she rode out Trace’s tremors the same way she used to watch the thunderclouds whisk the storm out to sea, with a smile on her lips, a renewed sense of being alive, and profound appreciation for the experience.