Kingsley wasn’t mistaken when he accused me of being eager. The need to taste him thrums through me like that of a steady heartbeat. I want to draw him into my mouth and discover his taste and texture for myself.
Once he circles my lips, painting me with slick moisture, he places the tip against them. I’m almost desperate to open wider and flick my tongue over the head. Instead, I remain still, eyes trained on him, waiting for his direction.
“Good girl.” His hand tightens in my hair, tipping my head back and exposing the delicate column of my throat. “Are you ready to kiss the crown?”
I pucker my lips and brush them against the head of his cock. The skin is soft, and I’m tempted to nuzzle the tip. A fresh wave of arousal crashes over me, threatening to drag me under. My pussy throbs with painful awareness. All it would take is one stroke of my lower lips and I would come all over myself.
“Again.”
I repeat the caress.
His cock stays poised at my mouth before he flexes his hips. The tip slides across my lips as they stretch around his girth, taking the head inside.
“Now suck.”
A flood of warmth rains down on me. If my panties hadn’t already been soaked, they would be now. My tongue strokes the flat underside of his head as I greedily suck his cock like I did with his finger only minutes ago.
He groans and his head lolls back, exposing thickly corded muscles. Who knew a throat could be so sexy? I keep my eyes lifted, wanting to see every nuance of pleasure as it flickers across his face.
“Your mouth feels so damn good,” he mutters.
As I fall into a rhythm, my sucking grows forceful as I try pulling more of his length into my mouth. When his grip tightens in my hair, I gasp, and his cock slips free. In one swift movement, he drags the athletic shorts over his erection. Breath coming fast, I stare up at him in question. His fingers loosen, relinquishing their hold on my hair before sifting through the strands.
With a smirk, he steps back. “See you at school tomorrow, Hawthorne.”
He turns away from me, sauntering to his lacrosse stick and picking it up from the grass before returning to the house. It’s only when the backdoor slams shut that I snap out of the daze that had fallen over me.
A strange mixture of relief and disappointment crash through me. More disturbing than that, I’m not sure which one takes precedence.
Chapter Twenty
My cheeks flush as I add a bit of gloss to my lips. Memories from last night flash through my head as I remember the way Kingsley stroked over them with the tip of his cock. That erotic image has been playing on a constant loop inside my head the entire night. I won’t pretend that I didn’t want it. His assessment of the situation was correct when he called me out for being eager.
Who was that girl on her knees?
She wasn’t anyone I recognized.
The simple act of drawing both his finger and cock into my mouth has unleashed something inside me that feels both wicked and primal. It’s a reaction I’m ashamed of.
After I crawled into bed last night, I spent the next couple hours tossing and turning, trying not to think about the agreement struck under the moonlight. I kept pressing my thighs together, attempting to ease the growing ache between them. Finally, knowing that it would only continue for the rest of the night, I stroked myself to orgasm. Trust me, it didn’t take much. A touch or two over my slippery flesh and my body was tightening. Only then was I able to fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.
I woke this morning with the same dull ache between my legs and had to do it all over again. Frustrated with the arousal, I didn’t bother to fight it. I simply spread my thighs wide and rubbed my clit until my teeth sank into my lower lip so no one would hear me getting off.
Ugh.
Even after that, my core continued to throb.
I finish applying bronze eyeshadow across my lids and pull my hair up into a messy bun. Then I press my hands against my cheeks to cool them. It doesn’t work. My face feels like it’s on fire. I grab my backpack and step into the hall, glancing at Austin’s closed door. With no reason to be up at the butt crack of dawn, I’m sure he’s still sacked out.
Nerves dance in the pit of my belly at the thought of not only braving Hawthorne Prep by myself, but seeing Kingsley. He’s an enigma and I don’t know what to expect from him.
Friendliness?
Cruelty?
Icy dismissal?
“Hey, sweetie.” Mom’s lips lift into a forced smile as she sits perched at the island in her robe with a steaming cup of coffee in her hands. “Want me to make pancakes?”