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“Do you want to fuck me?” Her laugh is more of a rasp.
“I asked you first.”
“Then yes. Make me come.”
“Say please.”
“Please.” Her nails dig into my head as she scratches through my hair. “Please make me, Archer.”
Music to my ears.
“Good, good girl.” Time for her reward.
I slide another finger inside her, loving how hot and tight she is, and pull her clit between my teeth, bringing her off with that brutal yet delicate tongue work that will have her dreaming about me for the next decade.
Her orgasm hits like a desert storm, sweeping through her with sudden, shuddering fury.
She’s damn near ripping into my scalp with her nails, moaning so loud it’s a good thing there’s no one else around.
Her pussy convulses, squeezing my fingers so tight it’s almost uncomfortable.
My cock nearly blows in my pants, jealous as hell it isn’t in her.
“Now,” I whisper after she slumps with eyes half-closed, drifting down from the high with her legs still wide and open for me. “Now, I’ll fuck you.”
“Every time you’re in this kitchen, you’ll think of me,” she says, her voice low, almost lazy.
Honestly, I’m afraid she’s right.
Every move I make that heightens this addiction seems destined to backfire tenfold.
Snarling, I unwrap a condom from my pocket and roll it on as she arches her back, offering her tits to me.
This woman is unreasonably perfect, reducing me to a depraved wildebeest.
“Don’t think of later. Stay in the moment, stay with me,” I tell her, pushing inside. Her heat welcomes my cock like coming home. “Think of now.”
Message received.
She wraps her arms around me, pressing her chest against mine, and there’s something so ungodly intimate about the way our bodies connect.
I pick her up and carry her to the sofa in the living room.
I need better leverage than the counter. Hell, if I have my way, I’ll fuck her in every room in this house a hundred times over.
She braces herself against my shoulders as I sit, holding her on top of me, still seated inside her.
“I’ve never been carried off by a caveman before. No guy ever did that…”
“It’s bad taste to bring up past partners in the middle of mind-blowing sex, Winnie,” I growl, jealous as hell that anyone else had her before me.
“Sorry!” Her head tips back as she laughs, a bright sound that comes straight from her belly. “Sorry. I guess I don’t know sex etiquette too well.”
There’s something damnably disarming about this woman. It pushes past the stupid, primal jealousy at the idea of her being with other men.
“Right now, the rule book says less talk, more riding my cock.” To encourage her, I press my thumb against her clit again until she grinds against me.
Incredible.