Dirty Distractions (Afternoon Delight 1)

“I want your mouth on me again,” she said. “While my mouth is on you.”

“Your command, my wish.” He licked the curve of her ear, dipping inside so that his breath tickled her. She shivered and laughed, scrunching her shoulder. “You’re sensitive all over, aren’t you? Your clit especially. I can’t wait to taste it again.”

Just like that the playfulness faded. “It’d been a while. That’s probably why,” she said, trying to sound casual.

“Hmm. You think?” Without hesitation, he slipped down the bed. He nudged up her nightgown—a silky number rather than her cotton monstrosity from earlier in the week—and pried her thighs apart, inhaling deeply. Her face heated an instant before he arrowed his tongue along her cleft, slipping inside to tantalize and tease. “This time I’m not stopping at one,” he whispered, and dove down to prove his point.

“Wait.” She fisted his silky hair. “You owe me something too.”

“Fuck yeah. I’m happy to share and share alike.” He shifted positions so his feet were near her head. Crooking his knees open, lifting his hips. Moving in such a way that the moonlight filtering through the window highlighted his erection, making it even more impressive in the dark.

She swallowed, feeling very much like the predator she’d been afraid to become. Because his cock was going in her mouth, and she wouldn’t let up until she had his release in her throat.

Though he didn’t cease his activities between her legs, his hand encircled his shaft, offering it silently. He kept it steady as she lowered her head, her breath streaming over him before she darted out her tongue for her first taste. His body jerked, his fingers going slack before he shored up his hold. She flicked again, scooping up a dab of his salty precome. Another replaced it, and another. She blew lightly, borrowing his trick, and reached down to grasp his warm, soft sac, cupping it gently. As she slid her lips over the crown, her lips curving at the new wetness slickening the tip, he pushed up her leg, curving it away from her body so her pussy was on display. Then he spread open her folds, giving her only a second to wonder what he’d do before he plunged his tongue into her. In and out, swirling, caressing. One finger rubbing her clit, another stroking the nerve-filled area between her slit and her ass.

She tried to concentrate on the hard length she was sucking with everything she had, but dear God, she was already climbing. Her knees locked and she bore down against the pleasure, wanting to prolong it as long as possible. She loved taking him deep, hearing his grunts and groans and tormented sighs. His balls tightened, and she massaged them gently before searching for that secret spot behind them that would aid in her mission. When she located it, he bolted up from his feast, cursing and yanking her head back down to finish the job.

“You’re going to pay for making me come first,” he warned, and the erotic excitement those words provoked sent a new flood of arousal into his waiting

mouth. He swallowed it greedily, pressing his lips over her clit, sucking with enough pressure to make her nipples throb. His thumb circled the hole between her ass cheeks, inching inside while she quaked and drew more forcefully on his shaft. It pulsed as she gave his ass the same treatment he was giving hers, a hint of thumb. A little more.

Another curse, and his hips rocketed upward, driving his length between her swollen lips. She absorbed the tremor that coursed through him, knowing what would follow. Moaning at the spray against the back of her throat and the thrust and retreat of his cock while she drank him down.

“Fuck, woman,” he groaned, his body twitching through the afterglow. “You milked me dry.”

Chuckling, she licked up every drop. There were a lot of them, slipping down his still partially hard cock like melting ice cream. “Normally I’m a tidy eater. But don’t worry. I always clean my plate,” she breathed, swallowing him again as he shuddered like an addict in the throes of detox. She eased back and licked the underside, continuing over his balls to collect the rest that had escaped. Each jerk of his muscles rewarded her, but she didn’t get to gloat for long.

“I’m about to eat mine.” He buried his face between her thighs and resumed devouring her, spearing into her with tongue and fingers. No finesse, no patience. Just rough, wild fingerfucking that set a match to her kindling orgasm and blew it sky high.

She bit his thigh to keep from crying out, and his moan rumbled over her quaking flesh. He rubbed his nose over her clit while he coaxed her up again, pressing inside her, seeking the area that would send her into orbit and keep her there. Aftershocks rocked her simply from his touch. He shoved up her legs, bending her back, opening her up. Wide. Wider. The burn in her lower back couldn’t lessen the thrill of his lips finding her again, of his greedy tongue flicking over her and tumbling her into another climax.

“Brad,” she whispered, half-blind. And half-mute too. Holy shit. “Fuck me. God, now.”

He was already on his knees and tugging her boneless lower half up on his thighs. “I need a condom. I brought one, but I think it fell off the bed.”

“Nightstand. Top drawer.” She was panting so hard she could barely speak. “Hurry.”

Dragging her with him, he swore and fumbled for the drawer, making her laugh. Making her whimper when he shut her up with an abrupt twist of her nipple. “Remember that making you pay thing? I’m about to.”

“So sorry for letting you come in my mouth.” She still couldn’t breathe, and seeing him stroking that magnificent, newly hardening dick into performance condition didn’t help. Praise the Lord for young cocks. Was there a patron saint for them? If not, there should be. “It won’t happen again.”

“The hell it won’t,” he growled, practically slapping her thighs apart. “Just wait—”

A scream punctuated his statement, the sound cutting through the humid, sex-scented air in her bedroom. They stared at each other for one frightened, fragmented moment, then another cry sounded from downstairs.

Kim. Oh God.

They pushed at each other, scrambling to untangle their limbs. Damp, slick flesh rubbed together and caused a new flurry of groans. Was this their punishment for fucking in the dark—trying to fuck, finally—like a pair of desperate teenagers?

Somehow she managed to get up and toss Brad the clothes she found pooled on the floor. He hopped around, trying to force on his pants, muttering something about holes and blue balls. She didn’t understand what, because she was already hurrying to throw open the door. Once in the hall, she called Kim’s name, her sweaty hand sliding along the banister as she scrambled down the stairs.

At the bottom she saw her best friend, clutching her ankle and crying. Guilt cascaded over her like a tsunami, erasing her earlier arousal. Brad collided against her back and Kim stared up at them, her chin wobbling. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you both. I tripped.” She pointed at a loose hank of carpet. “Stupid rug. I don’t think my ankle’s broken.”

Kim looked from Brad to Sara and back again. “Boy, you two got down the stairs at almost exactly the same time. Were you guys watching TV or something?”

Or something. Sara held her breath, hoping Brad wouldn’t say anything. When his silence made it clear he was waiting for her to speak, she nodded. “Yeah. TV. That’s what we were doing. Uh, I mean watching. A good show on PBS.”

“Brad hates PBS. Everything except Antiques Roadshow.”