Bang (B-Squad 2)
"Isaac, please." She pushed against his hold on her hips, drawing his attention exactly where they both wanted it to be.
"What do you want?" He tightened his grip on her hips and drove her back against the couch, refusing to touch her anywhere else even though her perfect, pink pussy was at mouth level and he was dying to taste her.
"You know," she pleaded.
"Don't turn shy on me now." He leaned in and blew a breath across her. "Tell me."
"I want your tongue on me."
He loosened his hold on her hips and glided his palms to her thighs, spreading his fingers wide so his thumbs rested on her inner thighs only inches below her core. "Where?"
"My pussy." It was an appeal, a surrender, a dare—she would never present only one answer, not even in a moment like this, not even with two simple words.
"How do you want it, darlin'?" He rubbed soft circles with the pads of his thumbs that moved higher with each rotation. "Slow? Fast? Hard? Gentle? Fingers? Sucking? Licking? Fucking you with my tongue?"
She bucked against his hold and thrust her hips forward so her sweet, glistening center was only inches from his mouth. "Yes."
"Good. That's my favorite."
The first lap was slow. He took his time to taste her, to feel her thighs shake under his palms, to hear her unmuffled moan of pleasure. All of it made his cock harder than he thought possible, but he wanted—needed—more. He wet a finger in his mouth then slid it home inside of her before adding a second and twisting them around so he could flick them against her G-spot. She threw her head back, grinding her core against the flat of his palm as he enjoyed the taste of her clinging to his lips.
"Damn." He muttered the curse into her wet center, then glided his tongue along her inner lips and circled her clit, licking and sucking her without mercy as she rotated her hips and pushed against him.
Lost in her wet softness, he took her with his mouth, slow then fast, hard and then soft. He added and withdrew fingers in response to the way she trembled and mewled her pleasure, wanting to take her higher with each stroke and lick.
"Yes," she cried out, her voice strangled with desire.
His fingers slid in and out, stretched her open while his tongue continued its dance. Millimeter by millimeter, his flat tongue slid up her wet lips. He stopped at her clit, sucked the warm nub into his mouth.
She yanked on his hair and rocked against his tongue as her core tightened around his fingers. Close. She was almost there. All he needed to do was give her a little push and she'd explode over the edge. He curled his fingers so he could reach the tight bundle of nerves just inside her entrance as he plunged them inside her and sucked hard on her hard clit. Her entire body tightened as she let out a hoarse “yes” and came against his mouth, sweet and hard and free.
Rolling back onto his heels, he wiped a hand across his mouth before standing. Her blue eyes were half-hooded, her cheeks pink and her breathing labored as she watched him. Instead of firing off a smart remark, she reached behind her back and unclasped her bra, slid the straps down her arms and dropped the scrap of material to th
e floor beside her discarded panties.
"Check off the couch." Her arm shot out and she shoved him back until his ass hit the drywall. "Now for the wall."
* * *
Tamara
Her legs might still be made of Jell-O after that orgasm, but there was no way Tamara was waiting any longer for Isaac's cock. She was many things, but patient when it came to getting what she wanted wasn't one of them, especially not with blind lust threatening to burn her from the inside out.
She latched onto his leather belt and slipped it free of the buckle. "Take off your boots."
"You're still wearing your shoes," he said, his voice husky.
Raising herself to her full height in the four-inch heels—which still brought her almost half a foot shy of Isaac's six feet four—she pressed her naked body to him and relished how her body lined up almost perfectly with his thanks to her stilettos. The tightening in his jaw and flare of desire in his dark brown eyes proved she wasn't the only one to appreciate the added height.
"Are you asking me to take them off?" She slid her hands between their bodies and popped the button of his jeans open.
"Fuck no."
"Good." She yanked his zipper down and slipped her hand inside the opening of his boxers, wrapping her fingers around the hard steel of his cock. "Take them off. Take it all off."
Hating to let him go, she did and took a step back to watch the show. Grinning, no doubt because he knew damn well she wanted to watch, he pulled off his boots slowly and followed up by leisurely getting rid of his jeans, shirt, and boxers, exposing one small square of light brown skin at a time. By the time he was standing before her without a stitch on, she'd forgotten how to breathe.
Her imaginings of a bare-naked Isaac had been hot. The real thing was scorching. Broad shoulders. Thick thighs. Defined, sinewy arms. A dusting of dark, curly hair across hard pecs, drifting down over rippling abs to end at the base of an impressive cock, the swollen tip already wet with pre-come.