Rich Player (The Dirty Thirty Pledge 3)

He leans down over me, very intentionally dragging his body up mine, so I feel our skin connect and it draws out shudders and shivers and echoes of pleasure.

“You don’t want my mouth on you?” he asks.

I flush, not used to such a direct question about oral sex, but he’s so close to me that I want him to kiss me again. And of course, I want his mouth on me. God, if that’s what he can do to my nipples…

“No,” I say, my voice airy, affected by his closeness. “I do. I just know that most guys don’t like to do that.”

He kisses me then, deeply and thoroughly. Effectively illustrating how good he is with his tongue and what he’s offering to do to my pussy. “I’m not like most guys,” he says. “I’m celebrating, remember? And I chose to celebrate with you. I’m not just going to make you come once and roll over.”

“I—”

He doesn’t even give me the chance to respond, slithering down my body so that his face is there, nudging my thighs apart and inhaling me. I give in, letting him closer, and he licks me through the fabric of my panties. My breath hiccups in my chest, and I reach out to hold on to something, but there’s nothing to grasp.

Glenn stretches the black lace tight over my clit, continuing his onslaught on top of it. The smooth heat of his tongue and the rough scratch of the fabric combine to make me squirm. I can’t seem to keep my hips still, lifting them toward his mouth and wordlessly asking for more. Please make me come again. Please.

A thumb presses over the fabric, rolling across me in easy circles. The pleasure is sharp, plunging deep through my gut, and I moan. My fingers dig into the comforter, knuckles white.

He peels the thong down my legs and drops it to the floor with the rest of my clothes. He gives me a grin that’s all sex and hunger and anticipation before he pushes his mouth between my legs again, and this time it’s not gentle. It’s a fucking tidal wave.

Hands caress my thighs, pushing them outward, and his tongue opens me like a flower. Tracking and licking and seeking and I can’t breathe. Huge, lapping strokes of his tongue cover me and raise me higher on the wave of ecstasy, and I crash down again as he pulls away, just short of the edge.

“Noooo,” I say. He doesn’t say anything, because his mouth is still occupied. He’s just stopped, slowed down. The touches are light and grazing, making me jump in surprise when he connects. A couple of times he strays from my pussy and brushes kisses to the inside of my thighs. I’m aching with need, practically shaking. I can feel his breath on my skin and even that touch makes me want to scream.

He builds me back up piece by piece, and I’m climbing that hill of pleasure toward climax like a rollercoaster. My hands find their way back to his hair, and I pull his mouth against me, help him consume me. And he does. Like I’m the best thing that he’s ever tasted. His tongue plunges inside me, fucking me, so deep he almost touches my G-spot, and I’m blind. There’s nothing left but his tongue and the way he moves. He scoops his hands under my ass and seals his mouth over me, working me with long, slow sucks until I’m so close that he can’t breathe.

And he stops.

Again.

I curse loudly, and he laughs. Laughs.

“Glenn, please.” It comes out long and low. Pleading. Fading pleasure is pinging low in my gut, and it almost hurts as the need to come fades. If things could spontaneously combust, I would almost be there.

“You taste amazing. You should be served for dessert.” He grins up at me, unable to conceal his smile from between my legs. “Never edged before?”

“Not like this.”

“It makes it better.”

I glare at him. “Prove it.”

There’s a sharp glint in his eye, and I know that he’s accepted the challenge. Sucking my clit between his lips, he rolls it between them, grazes it with his teeth, teases it with his tongue. He focuses on that little bundle of nerves, flicking it over and over, sweeping up the underside that carries me higher, and the renewed need to explode comes hard and fast, stealing my breath.

Glenn works a finger inside me, and then another, my slickness allowing him to sink deep. He curls his fingers, finding that rough patch that’s my G-spot with more ease than anyone I’ve ever been with. It’s effortless, and suddenly I’m shaking, sensation driven into me from inside and outside, and I can’t hold on.

The orgasm shatters me. I cry out, arching off the bed, every muscle going taut, electrified with pleasure. I’m frozen and blind, completely at the mercy of Glenn’s fingers and mouth. The climax washes up and over, and spirals down deep. So deep that I’m shaking.