His tongue swept up her cleft in a long, slow lick, and she took a shuddering breath. Raising his head, he met her gaze. “I bet you twenty bucks you can’t make it ten minutes without coming.”
Ten minutes? She was a goner and she knew it. But she wasn’t going to give in that easily. “A hundred.”
“Oh, you’ve got a bet,” he said, grinning before he bent his head to the challenge.
His mouth closed over her clit, and she mentally cursed herself for not saying fifty.
Chapter Three
What am I doing? Chris’s rational side had successfully evaded him all evening. Now it showed up? It was stupid of him to have agreed to sneak off with Maggie. It was stupid of him to have brought her back here. It was supremely stupid of him to have his face buried in her cunt and her legs locked around his neck.
This is Coach’s daughter, his brain reminded him. Fuck his brain, he’d never liked it, anyway. Besides, she wasn’t a teenager anymore. No, she was definitely a full-grown woman, and she wanted this as much as Chris did, judging from the way she rolled her hips against his face.
Beneath his mouth, she was hot, wet, and open. He ran his tongue over her clit, sucking the hard knot between his lips with merciless pressure. She groaned and took loud, deep breaths. When he looked up, he almost laughed. Her head was turned to the microwave and the green numbers on its clock face.
If she thought she would really last ten minutes, she was lying to herself. At least, if she was as turned on as he was; he certainly didn’t know if he could go ten minutes without fucking her right there on the kitchen island. He rolled his tongue around in lazy circles, then dipped down to push inside her. She gave a long, noisy exhalation, and her palm slapped the counter.
“How many minutes has it been?” he asked, bumping his nose against her folds as he raised his head.
She replied through gritted teeth. “Four.”
“Hmm. Not even halfway done yet.” He parted her with his thumbs and stroked down the bundle of nerves slowly, savoring the taste of her, the feel of the frilled edge of her flesh against his tongue. Alternating between slowly lapping at her and darting his tongue in precision strikes, he knew he’d found the right motion when she wriggled her hips and clawed at his hair with her shiny red nails.
Her mound, waxed bare, was like velvet on his face. He groaned against her and slipped his tongue inside, curling over her internal ridges. With his hand splayed over her lower abdomen, he rubbed her clit over and over with his thumb, faster and faster, until her whole body curled up from the counter and she shouted, “Oh, fuck!” as she came with a burst of wetness that bathed his chin.
He pushed up, laughing, and she wriggled back, pulling her skirt down pretty demurely for a woman who was still breathing hard after a screaming orgasm on a kitchen counter.
“Look, before we go any further…”
“Yeah, I’ll be right back.” He left her there only for a minute, running to the bathroom, shedding his shirt along the way. In the medicine cabinet, he found condoms, and with a grimace of dismay, reluctantly checked the expiration date. It had been a really long time. When he saw that they were good to go, he breathed a sigh of relief and headed back out. He’d expected her to have moved to someplace more comfortable. The couch, maybe, or even upstairs to his bed, if he thought they would make it that far. She sat on one of the bar stools at the island, leaning back with her elbows on the counter. One leg rested lazily over the other stool, giving him a spectacular view of her glistening cunt.
“Six minutes,” she said, in answer to a question he wouldn’t have been smart enough to ask, anyway.
“You wanna move to the couch?” he asked, not sure what they were talking about, just absolutely certain that he would fall to his knees and beg her if he didn’t get inside her soon.
“No, no, no, I don’t think we can see the clock from there.” She swung her long leg down from the barstool, her heels clicking on the stained concrete as she closed the distance between them. “Wanna go double or nothing? See if you can’t beat six minutes?”
Oh, so it was that game, was it? There was no way he’d be able to last six minutes. She might as well have asked to go for six years. As she dropped to her knees in front of him, he held his breath. He tried to keep cool, but all he could think of was how hot her cherry-red lips would look wrapped around his cock. Already painfully hard, he groaned as she unzipped his fly and released him. She stroked one hand down him slowly, bending her wrist as she did. “Wow. It’s just as impressive up close.”