Scorch (Virtues & Lies 2)

“Fuck, Belles, you’re gushing and I haven’t finished with you yet…”

“Just fuck me, please. Please, Christopher.” Begging as his thumb sinks into my pussy, I don’t know how much more of this stop and start…push and pull I can take.

“I don’t think so.” He blows over my sensitive skin, and I tremble as he pulls his thumb out of my pussy and drags it over my arsehole. Rounding my hole with a barely there touch that leaves me in anticipation of what he’s going to do to me, he sucks at my clit.

The width of his shoulders lodged between my ankles makes it impossible for me to close up.

“You taste so fucking good, baby. I could live off you alone. Your cunt is the best fucking thing I’ve ever had.”

“God, please, just let me come. I can’t…”

One of his hands pushes beneath me and fists my breast, trapping my nipple between his fingers as he works my tender flesh.

“Work for it.”

“What do you want?” It’s a garbled question, breathy with my rapid pants.

“I want you to coat my fucking face.”

Shit.

His hand tightens around my boob, and his tongue works my clit as his other hand kneads one of my arse cheeks. Every now and then the tips of his fingers skim my arsehole, and the air in my throat thickens to the point I might choke.

My limbs tighten to aching point, and the flames at my core blaze hotter, every muscle coiling tight as my cunt clenches, desperately begging to be filled.

Fuck.

Oh dear God.

Fingers thrust deep and without warning, my orgasm rips through me. As I fall flat on my chest and face, my arms reach above for something…anything, to anchor me. To ground me. But everything shatters and there’s nothing I can grasp to break my fall.

Christopher is relentless, sucking and licking and stroking and pressing until I’m a shaking, burning mess. And before I can gather myself, his tongue licks up to my pussy as his fingers pull out, running up to my arsehole, tongue following.

Oh sweet fucking Jesus.

A whimper pushes out of me as he licks over my puckered flesh. My cheeks heat with bated curiosity. And I don’t know why I’m flushing bashful—Christopher’s fucked me every which way. But this feels all kinds of forbidden and dirty, and the more he laves at my flesh, the better it feels.

My toes curl and my hands clutch at the bedding as I desperately try not to lose my fucking mind. It’s impossible though, and as my loud moans echo around us, he tongues through my spread crease as he lifts over me.

Trailing tongue and fingers over my back until his body pushes mine up the bed, Christopher’s front moulds to my back as he lies over me, all our dips and grooves perfectly aligning. Legs between mine, his cock presses to my cunt.

“Good girl,” he breathes above me, bracing himself as he slowly inches inside me.

The way he stretches me burns straight to my core. A sweet ache pulsing as he fills me so completely, I can’t bring myself to move or speak. I can only luxuriate in the feeling of

him buried so deep that I can feel him in my deepest recesses.

Lowering himself on me, his weight a welcome blanket to my needy body, his arms stretch above us. And finding my hands, his fingers twine with mine.

“Fuck, you feel so good…so tight. Fuck, Belles.” Lips to my ear, he thrusts gently into me, holding deep and still with a groan every time he bottoms out.

This torture is a completely different brand. It’s all love and devotion, a basic compulsion.

My fingers tighten around his as he picks up the pace with longer and harder thrusts, his hot breath soaking my skin and hair. His corded muscles harden over me with every stroke.

“Christopher…”

“Morena.”