Princess Next Door

“You’ve got to learn to trust me.”

“I don’t see how me being spread-eagled like this is going to show me any of your skills.”

“That’s because you have no faith in me whatsoever.”

She rolled her eyes, and he cupped her pussy, silencing any protest from her. He changed in position so that his face was just above her pussy.

Her gaze was on him, and he spread the lips of her pussy open, and licked across her clit, flicking back and forth, watching as she gasped, and her body shake as he teased her.

“Holy … oh, my.”

His mission was to get her to cuss, if for no other reason than to get him to fuck her, or at least to say it.

Sucking her clit into his mouth, he gave it a gentle tug before releasing her and licking her, going back and forth, teasing her until she was shaking with her need.

With just a few minutes of his tongue on her mouth, she came, crying out his name, her entire body quivering.

He was surprised at how quickly she came apart, but he didn’t mind, not at all.

“You taste exquisite,” he said.

“You really are talented.” Her gaze moved to his aching dick. “Could you show me?”

“What?”

“Show me how you like to do it.” She nodded at his dick.

Wrapping his fingers around his length, he began to stroke himself. They’d known each other such a short time, and yet it felt endless. He felt like he knew her, and there was no pressure.

She moved forward, wrapping her fingers around his cock, working with him.

Her lips brushed his, and as her hand took over, he played with her tits, pulling her close as she worked his dick.

The pleasure was intense as he came, holding her while he did.

Chapter Six

Standing in the grocery store Wednesday evening, Wynter looked at the carrots, trying to figure out which ones would be better, the short, dumpy ones or the long ones. Cooking for one was a nightmare, but tonight she was determined to cook for two.

So far Zane had taken care of their meals for the past couple of nights, and he could cook. His lasagna was the nicest she’d ever tasted, and he’d even offered to give her the recipe. She’d wanted to watch him cook, and he’d agreed but for another night. Last night he’d done some other concoction with shrimp and pasta, which made her mouth water for more.

Tonight was her turn, or tomorrow seeing as he was working late, and she wouldn’t see him tonight.

Picking up several large carrots, she placed them in the basket she held over her arm, and moved on to some peppers. Her thoughts were constantly moving back to Monday night when he’d showed her exactly how wicked his tongue could be.

After they’d enjoyed their meal, she’d insisted on going back home to get some sleep, and giving him a chance to rest. When she’d been at home, she’d started to do some research on how long it took for a woman to reach orgasm.

Much to her embarrassment, everything she’d watched and read stated at least thirty minutes. She’d not even lasted five.

She didn’t know if that was normal or not, so she had no choice but to ask Tammy. Of course, asking your friend for orgasm time hadn’t been the most comfortable conversation.

“He clearly rocks your boat.”

“Is it normal?”

“What’s normal? When Marshall has me going, it takes a few seconds, but we’re talking a buildup.”

Tammy had then told her about the buildup, the caressing and teasing that brought them to their knees.

She finished her shopping, and was making her way toward her car when someone shouted her name.

“Wynter, Wynter.”

Carey, her ex, was rushing toward her. Holding her shopping basket in her arms, she forced a smile to her lips.

“Hey, Carey, how have you been?” she asked.

They’d been friends, not much else, not that they needed to be much else. She also wasn’t a believer in being rude. She’d been the one to end things with him, and he’d not been heartbroken. He’d shrugged, and said there were more girls out there.

“I’ve been great. I’ve just seen your parents.” He held up a shopping list. “Asked me to pick some things up for them.”

“Great.” She’d not seen her parents since she moved, and even though she’d been tempted to call them, she just hadn’t.

The point of moving away had been for her to flesh out her life on her own.

“Your parents are worried about you, you know.”

“Not that worried. They could come and visit me anytime if they really wanted.” She hoped they didn’t.

He chuckled. “They’re pissed that your grandparents left you enough money to start over. They feel they undermined their authority.”

She forced a smile. “I really need to get going.”

Wynter turned in time to see Zane’s truck pull into a parking spot. His friends and the man himself spilled out. They were laughing, and she smiled.