Secret Weapon
He grasped her right wrist, and she heard a click and the metal bracelet around her wrist unfastened. He lifted her hand and pressed his lips to her palm. He kissed it, then ran the tip of his tongue along her skin, tracing a line on her palm. Her insides fluttered and heat seeped through her. He pressed her hand to her belly, then downward. She felt his finger tuck under the elastic of her thong and draw it forward. Then he guided her hand underneath the fabric.
He released her wrist and she stroked her fingertips over her curls.
“Tell me what you feel.”
“I feel the hair.”
“You aren’t shaved?” he asked.
“I’ve trimmed it. Into a star shape.”
He chuckled. “I can hardly wait to see.”
She pushed her hand deeper into her panties, her fingertips stroking her slit.
“Are you stroking your pussy now?”
“Yes.” She stroked over it several times, the flesh becoming more damp.
“Is it wet?”
“Yes.”
“Push your fingers inside.”
She slid her fingers into the slick heat of her vagina.
“How wet are you?”
“Very wet.”
“I can hardly wait to feel how wet you are. Now push your fingers in and out.”
She did as he said, getting hotter with each stroke. He cupped her breasts and caressed them, his thumbs toying with her nipples. Then his hands glided down her body and he tugged at the elastic of her thong.
“I want to see your fingers pushing in and out.” He pulled down the front of her panties, exposing her fingers.
She pushed inside again. He drew her panties down her thighs, to her ankles.
“You have a beautiful pussy.”
His finger traced the star as she continued to glide in and out of her slick folds.
“My cock is hard from watching you. Do you want to touch it?”
“Yes, please.”
He grasped her wrist and guided her hand forward. Her fingers came in contact with hot, hard flesh. She wrapped her slick fingers around a solid shaft.
“You are wet. I can feel the wetness on your fingers.”
She stroked his big shaft, gliding to the tip, then cupped her hand around his cockhead, teasing under the ridge with her fingertips. He twitched. She glided down again and felt his testicles against her fingers. She slid underneath and cradled them in her hand, caressing them.
“I want you to suck my cock,” he murmured in a hoarse voice. “Would you do that for me?”
“I’d like that.”
“I have a stool.” Sloan’s voice startled her.