Page 84 of Crossed Wires: The Complete Series

She laughed out a ragged breath, shoving her hips upward into his incredibly talented hand. “Do you have any fucking clue how good your fingers feel on my cunt?”

Her cheeks flooded with heat at the vulgar word. Dylan’s cock nudged her inner thigh. She could tell by the way he groaned he liked the sound of it passing her lips.

He thrust into her with three fingers, wriggling them within her tight feminine walls. “I’ve hadyourfingers wrapped around my cock, remember?” His grin was carnal, hungry. “I know exactly how good it feels.”

“D-Dylan,” she gasped, the mounting pressure in the pit of her belly telling her she was going to come again. Soon. “I want…my…”

Dylan’s jaw bunched. “Want what, Monnie?”

The request wouldn’t leave her. But nor would the ache in her core.

He thumbed her clit, one long leg entwining with hers, his cock a thick pole in his jeans, and it was only then she noticed the tiny beads of perspiration forming at his temple. How strained must he be, to still be in control? The realization only made her unspoken desire burn hotter.

“What do you want, Monet?”

She gazed up at him, blood roaring in her ears, her pussy throbbing, her breasts heavy, her anus contracting. “I-I want…I want you to fuck my ass with your tongue. Please?”

The plea burst from her in a gushing tumble of words, the last lost to the mattress when Dylan flipped her onto her belly, hauled her hips off the bed and ran his tongue over her anus.

New pleasure speared through her. Pleasure Monet had never experienced before. Forbidden. Wanton. Debauched.

She moaned, loving every sinful lick of rapture claiming her body as Dylan swiped his tongue over her back passage. She buried her face in the duvet, her hands bunching the soft material. Dylan’s tongue laved her anus in hungry swipes, each time pressing with firmer strokes. She whimpered, the very core of her sex twisting and contracting. Her pussy dripped; she could feel her juices slicking her flesh. How could a tongue on her ass make her so…so…aroused? How could Dylan licking her hole feel so good?

Was it the salacious contact? The man responsible for it? Or both?

With a low groan against her flesh, Dylan smoothed one hand up her leg, over her inner thigh and dipped a finger into her pussy, all the while wriggling the tip of his tongue against her anus.

“Oh fuck!” Monet cried into the duvet. “Fuck, that feels…”

He stabbed at her hole again, his fingers inside her in perfect harmony with the thrusts of his tongue. Tight ribbons of pleasure whipped through her, threading together, turning into thick fingers of sensation she could barely fathom.

“So good,” she moaned. Her legs trembled, her belly hitched. She pushed her ass back toward Dylan’s face, the firm strokes of his tongue, the wriggling penetration of his finger driving her wild. “So…so fucking…oh, oh,oh yes!”

Her orgasm exploded, a detonation of unexpected, delicious heat and pulsing tension. She writhed on her knees, her hips bucking uncontrollably, Dylan continuing to fuck her ass with his tongue as his fingers plundered her gushing sex.

Throb after constricting throb claimed her pussy. She clawed at the duvet and whimpered into its silken softness as Dylan took her to a place of sexual release and awareness she’d never known before.

Monet’s climax pulsed through her, tight and absolute. She cried out, her legs trembling harder as Dylan withdrew his finger from her pussy and gently lowered her to the bed.

She rolled her head to the side, the fading force of her orgasm still beating in her sex. “I…” She stopped, licked her lips and pushed her hair from her face. “I don’t even know what to say.”

Dylan chuckled behind her, the mattress shifting as he pushed himself off the bed. “How ’bout ‘more please’?”

Monet snorted. “I think you tongue-fucked me into paralysis. I can’t feel my limbs.”

She waited for him to laugh. When he didn’t, she twisted on the bed, looking over her shoulder to find the bedroom empty. “Dylan?”

Silence.

Monet frowned. She righted herself on the bed, settling onto her knees as she chewed her bottom lip. Where did he go? Should she go after him? What was he?—

The question died in her mind as Dylan strode back into her bedroom. Naked. Completely naked.

Save for his hat.

She burst out laughing. The grin on his face, the jaunty angle of his hat, the massive erection jutting upward from the dark-blonde thatch of pubic hair…it was all so delicious. So naughty. So perfect.

The dimple in his right cheek flashed at her as he moved closer to the bed. He held up his hand, a small black square between his fingers. “Ready for more?”