She does, lifting her ass just high enough for me to lower her underwear, before closing her knees. I slide them down her legs, letting them fall just below her knees. “Now show me your pussy.”
Her eyes flare, just like they did when I said it to her on the carousel. I don’t know if it’s the words or the fact that I’m telling her what to do, but she likes it.
Evan opens her legs, revealing a perfect little pussy. I stare at her, knowing I shouldn’t be doing this. Knowing I won’t be able to keep from fucking her if I go this far, but not caring enough to stop. I run a finger up her center, feeling that she’s already wet for me. I grab one ankle, one side of her underwear falling from her foot, before placing it flat onto the table. Meeting her glazed eyes, I lean forward, taking the first lick.
OH MY GOD. MY MOUTH pops open, head falling backward at the feel of his warm tongue against me.
“No,” Sebastian says. “Watch.”
I lift my head, eyes locking onto where he flattens his tongue, giving long, slow licks. I shouldn’t be letting this happen, but I’ll worry about the consequences tomorrow. My heart is beating wildly in my chest, and I feel a bead of sweat roll down my neck. The view is obscene, one foot up on the table and one foot resting on his lap as his dark head of hair moves between my legs, taking his fill of me.
His tongue moves lower, circling my entrance before dipping inside. He fucks me with his tongue, holding my ankle in place as I start to writhe against him. I can’t help it, my hips move on their own accord, my arms starting to shake. When Sebastian sucks my clit into his mouth, my arms give out, and I fall backward, knocking the plate of bread onto the floor. A noise comes from the back of Sebastian’s throat, and then he’s lifting my other leg, planting my foot onto the table. He pushes my knees apart, the cool air hitting my hot, wet flesh. The position would be mortifying if I was coherent enough to care, but I’m lost to lust, uncaring of how I must look.
He dives back in, licking, sucking, and fucking me with his tongue. Sliding my hands above my head, I fist the edge of the table. Sebastian reaches up to tug on my dress until my breasts pop out, bouncing.
“Fuck, Evan. I want to feel you.”
“Do it. Please,” I urge, knowing what I’m asking. I’d let him take me on this grimy little table and not feel an ounce of shame about it. When he takes my clit into his mouth and lightly bites down as he sucks, I explode, legs shaking, muscles tightening. Sebastian keeps his mouth on me, bringing me back down to planet Earth as I shudder beneath him, like aftershocks following an earthquake.
I open my eyes to find Sebastian kissing the insides of my thighs. I peel my fingers away from the edge of the table and push my spent body into a sitting position. I can see that Sebastian’s hard, even through his jeans, but he hasn’t so much as made a move to touch himself. Still feeling high, I slide my foot up his thigh, rubbing against his length. His jaw clenches hard as his eyes squeeze shut, but then he’s wrapping a hand around my ankle, moving it away.
“I want to touch you, too,” I say, pouting. Sebastian snaps, standing up and jerking his belt off his hips. He pushes me backward, flat against the table before unbuttoning his jeans and pulling himself out to fist his length. I’m mesmerized by the sight. It’s not like I haven’t seen a penis before. But I’ve never seen one that made me feel…anything. Sebastian is thick, hints of veins running through the shaft and glistening at the tip, and watching his hand slide up and down the hard length is erotic in a way I didn’t expect.
His eyes are on me as he works himself. My dress hangs off my chest, slightly ripped. I lower the strap that’s still intact, giving him a better view. My nipples feel tight, and my clit is still throbbing, ready for more. Knowing it’s a dangerous move to taunt him right now, I part my knees, bringing my fingers down to slide through the mess he left between my legs.
He lunges and suddenly, he’s on top of me, his face an inch from mine. “Don’t push me,” he grinds out.
Circling my legs around his waist, I pull him into me. His eyes widen when his hot skin hits mine, then he drops his forehead to mine, rocking against me. He fits his cock between my lips, sliding back and forth, never pushing inside. I try to angle my hips to take him inside me, but he pulls back.
I groan, frustrated. He chuckles, leaning back down to suck on my nipple as he moves against me. “Oh God,” I whine. I feel it building again. The need to come is stronger than anything I’ve ever felt.
“You’re so fucking wet. It’d be so easy to slip inside you,” he taunts, his voice low and husky, his expression pained.
His words have me clenching around nothing, but then the tip of his head is right there, nudging against my entrance.
“Please,” I whisper, not above begging.
“I want you to come like this,” he says, jerking his length with the tip still inside me. His mouth is on my nipple again, and I bring my hand down to rub my clit, needing the friction. “That’s it, Princess,” he coaxes, his hand moving faster.
I come apart, this time harder than before, wanting so badly for him to shove inside me, filling the emptiness. Sebastian pulls back, moving the tip of him from my entrance to my clit, pumping himself hard before his abs tighten and his cum shoots out, the warm liquid falling across my thighs and pelvis.
Sebastian reaches for the underwear, still around one ankle, before wiping his cum away. He wads it up and throws it somewhere behind him before he shoves himself back into his pants and zips up. He sits back on the bench, pulling me to straddle his lap, sandwiching me between him and the table.
He looks troubled, the crease between his eyebrows deeper than it usually is. I have the urge to smooth it a
way with my thumb. I know asking him directly would be useless. His teeth scrape across his bottom lip, drawing my attention to the scar beneath it.
“How’d you get this?” I ask, tracing the half-moon shape with my finger.
He hesitates, and I wonder if he’s going to answer at all before finally says, “Eros’ dad. My uncle.” His voice is grim.
“Was it an accident?” I ask.
His hard eyes meet mine. “Yeah, it was an accident,” he says, and I’m momentarily relieved before he finishes. “He was aiming for my throat.”
I gasp, not at all expecting that. “Where is he now?”
“Dead,” he says, watching me for a reaction.