Page 110 of Almost Ravaged

She does, like such a good girl, her saliva hitting the tip, a string of it still clinging to her lips. “Perfect. Now ease up, Ms. Davvies. Let me in.”

With an exhale, she relaxes, giving me better access.

I work a few inches of my cock between her breasts but quickly realize I need more fluid for what I have in mind.

“Spit again,” I demand, rubbing the first wad all over my shaft.

As the second hit lands, she whimpers.

Yeah, Little Nuisance. I’m right there with you.

I bury myself between her tits, then pull back and use the head of my cock to paint a trail between her breasts.

She spits again, this time without being told. Then again.

I roll my hips up, letting all that slickness guide me through the tight channel, while I tweak her piercings again and pull on them to create more resistance. Before long, I find a rhythm, thrusting and tugging simultaneously.

Each pull elicits a whimper from her that causes the pressure in my groin to grow. “Do you like watching your cock disappear between my tits, Professor?” she asks, feigning innocence.

Do I like it?

It’s the hottest fucking sight I’ve ever witnessed.

This woman knows what she’s doing. Her confidence and obvious experience unlock the primal side of my urges that I rarely let out to play. She knows what kind of power she holds in this moment. She’s a dirty girl, this one. I can’t wait to push and explore and dance around all the kinky edges of her desire.

“You’re doing such a good job, holding your tits nice and tight for me. I’m going to come all over them, and then, I promise, I’ll take care of you.”

Chapter thirty-eight

Sawyer

Ifear I’m out of my league as I hover on a precipice I’ve never been to before.

Mercer Eden is fucking my tits. My hands are occupied, making it impossible to touch myself, yet despite the lack of contact, I think I’m on the verge of coming.

The sight of him thrusting against my chest and playing with my piercings while he watches me with so much intensity may be enough to make me combust.

“Fuck. You feel so good.” I squeeze my nipples, the zap that shoots straight to my core making my vision hazy.

He’s long and thick, but not too girthy. Every time he thrusts forward and his crown appears, I stick my tongue out and lap at it.

I’m a mess, with saliva dripping down my chin and neck. I feel wanton and floaty, so close to hitting that dreamy headspace where the world stills and everything around me and inside me goes quiet before I come.

“Yes. Mercer. Please,” I beg as my clit pulses in rhythm with the tugs I give my piercings.

His cock hits my chin, and I whimper, desperate to taste him, to suck him through his release.

“So fucking close,” he murmurs. “But don’t try to lap it up or swallow me,” he warns.

A whine escapes me, but I don’t argue. I can be a good girl and do what he asks.

“I’m close, too,” I whimper.

“Don’t you dare come before I touch you.” He knocks my hands away from my breasts and takes over, pushing them together and rolling my nipples between his fingers and thumbs. Instantly, his movements grow sloppier.

I crane back and take him in. If I can’t come yet, then I sure as hell want to soak in every second of his pleasure. He’s a dichotomy of power and passion, grunting, then practically whimpering as he thrusts. I want to watch him explode. I want to see his expression when he finally unloads all over me.

“Eyes on me, Professor.”