Chapter

Eight

GINGER

“ G ive me your cock,” I command, out of my mind with lust.

“No, Ginger, this is all about you and your pleasure,” he replies, sinking his head into me with increased fervency.

“Please, Roscoe. I need to taste you, too. The thought of it has me so turned on, I feel like I could explode.”

I’ve only ever heard about sixty-nine from my friends. I don’t even know if I’ll be any good at it. But I can’t think of a position that better embodies the savage feelings welling up all at once for this man. And a deep-seated, indefatigable hope persists that if I can blow his mind, he’ll think twice about letting me go.

“Are you sure?” he grumbles in low, anticipatory tones.

“Yes, I need to taste you like you’re tasting me.”

“Fuck.” He hesitates.

I smile seductively. “Please.”

His eyes search mine until recognition lights in them. “There’s that fire in your eyes again. The fire that lets me know you’re a wild woman.”

“A wild woman. I like the ring of that.” I nod, smiling wickedly. “One who needs a wild man.”

“You’re in luck,” he murmurs in searing tones. “I want you on top so you can straddle my face and suffocate me with your juicy goodness.”

His words make my cheeks burn, and he chuckles at their glow. I sit up, changing places with him on the boughs. My eyes flicker around the room for a moment, my skin confused between goosebumps from the cave’s air and waves of heat pouring from the fire as his huge, erect rod betrays his desire. I sigh hungrily, devouring it with my eyes, trying to fathom how it will fit in my mouth, let alone how it did my pussy.

“Sit on my face, Sweetness.”

Although I’m the one who asked for sixty-nine, I never thought about it involving me sitting on his face. It sounds downright dangerous. And his talk of suffocating? “What if you can’t breathe?”

He laughs throatily, grinning from ear to ear. “That’s a helluva way to go.”

I arch an eyebrow. “I’m serious. My thighs are thicker than most girls.” Shame fills me at pointing this out, even though it’s obvious with me buck naked kneeling next to him, my upper legs spreading over my calves in ways I instantly regret.

He leans forward, wrapping his arms around my legs and showering them in kisses and swipes of his tongue. “Your thighs are fucking perfect. Delicious as fuck, although they’d taste better wrapped around my ears. Trust me.”

“Okay.” I sigh, crawling towards him on the boughs. His greedy eyes sear my flesh, and my pussy throbs with anticipation as I turn, straddling his face.

He grabs my hips roughly, squeezing them and drawing my pussy towards his mouth. “God, I love your hips, so curvy and delectable. And your pussy… Fuck, I could eat you out all night. Maybe I will.” He buries his tongue in my folds, penetrating my slick channel with his thick, wicked tongue. “I want you to fuck the hell out of my face, Ginger. I need you to grind into me and let me make you feel good.”

“Yes!” I whimper, breathing fast as my eyes wander down the tight washboard of his abs, alighting on the trail of coppery blond hair that starts below his navel, cutting a symmetrical line down the sexy inverted triangle of his Adonis Belt and swirling around his massive cock. His dick is thick, straight, and strong, with an angry vein running down the side.

Roscoe’s mouth hungrily devours my pussy as I lick and taste his cock for the first time, nearly coming undone by so many stimuli. A rumble booms from deep in his chest as my tongue circles his head, and I take the tip into my mouth, savoring its smooth heat.

I lap and lick it as he devours me with his fingers and mouth, making me slicker, wetter, and needier than I’ve ever been. Responding to the delectable ways he pleasures me, I suck his cock with enthusiasm, adoring every inch of it with my lips, tongue, and teasing glances of my teeth. I savor the way he growls and moans, vibrations teasing through his body and into mine as we both draw closer to finishing.

Growing more adventurous, I slide him deeper into my mouth, feeling his hips angle incrementally toward me as he groans against my clit, sending waves of rapture to my core. I suck and tease him with my tongue, falling in love with his rod until he rewards me with a few dribbles of pre-cum.

Licking it greedily, I moan at the taste of his salty flavor, sitting back a little more on his face. His tongue fucks me enthusiastically, rewarding me for giving myself so completely to him as I continue to climb higher and higher, an astronaut headed full-tilt to the moon.

Dropping my head over the bottom side of his dick, I trace it from the base to the frenulum, thrumming my tongue back and forth along the shaft as he lets out deep, bliss-filled cries, edging towards abandon. My tongue circles his head again before descending lower to suck his balls one at a time into my mouth.

“Yes, Ginger. Fuck, yes!” he whispers in strained tones as waves of pride fill me. I want to thoroughly please this man, not leave one cord of his need untied. I want to make it impossible for him to let me go, although I’ve heard all the cautions about having sex to jumpstart a relationship. But everything about intimacy with him feels natural, right, even familiar. I can’t describe it.

His mouth migrates sensually back to my clit, twirling and rhythmically sucking me as his finger strokes my G-spot. The heady riot of movements from his velvety tongue feels randomly purposeful.

Between pants, I ask, “What are you doing to me, baby?”

Looking between my legs with a guilty grin, he confesses, “Tracing my name—first, middle, and last.”

Like I’m his . The possessive confession thrills me. “What’s your middle name?”

“Langley, and yours?”

“Louise,” I scream as his finger hits my G-spot again, edging me toward free fall.

My pussy and lower ab muscles tighten, and my legs tremble. Crack! With a teasing glance, he smacks my ass, leaving a slight sting and eliciting a surprised moan of pleasure from me. I like it, wondering if he’s just uncovered a kink I didn’t know I had.

“Wild woman,” he grins encouragingly, reading the lust on my face.

I focus on his gorgeous cock again, sucking him into my mouth and hollowing my cheeks. My left hand strokes and plays with his balls as I take his shaft deeper and deeper. His hips tick upwards, thrusting his cock further into my mouth. I push him past my tonsils, deep-throating his head.

“God!” he screams, his sexy-as-hell voice tinged with satisfaction.

The naughty taboo of pleasuring him this way inches me towards heady oblivion. My pussy trembles as his beard tickles me, and his mouth claims me. I tighten and tighten and tighten until I can’t take anymore, soaring over the edge of ecstasy and orgasming so hard my lower ab muscles jump, and fireworks explode in my head.

“Fuck, yes!” he exclaims, doubling his efforts, resulting in greedy wet noises that undo me even more.

His balls jerk up, and I slide my mouth back slightly as waves of salty, metallic-flavored cum fill it. I swallow his warm release as my pussy spasms around his finger. He continues devouring me like a madman, holding my hips as I spasm and fight him, so sensitive that each swipe of his tongue comes with a blissful intensity I can barely handle.

Finally, I collapse next to him, my mind still spinning with the unparalleled deliciousness of it all. Sexually, I couldn’t imagine a better match…kink for kink, appetite for appetite, hunger for soul-stirring hunger.

Fast, heavy breathing fills the cave, and I raise my head, glancing at Roscoe. He pants deliriously, satisfaction etched on his handsome face. Equally punch-drunk, I lie next to his legs on the tree branches, wrapped in the cozy fragrance of evergreens. He grabs my feet, kissing the top of each one affectionately as his breathing continues to slow.

As I catch my breath, my pulse slowing, I admire how the firelight flickers and dances over his angular planes and bulging muscles. He’s the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen, and I could pinch myself to be lying here like this with him, waves of delight still washing over me.

Resting his head in the curve at the front of my ankles where my feet meet my legs and absent-mindedly stroking my calves, he asks with an irrepressible grin, “Did I do better that time?”

“I loved both times,” I say, lifting my chin defiantly. My voice quivering at the beautiful memories.

“There’s that Aries stubbornness you mentioned earlier.”

I shake my head, smiling.

Motioning for me to lie by him, he urges, “We should get some sleep now. Because I literally can’t after that fucking blowjob. Damn, Ginger.”

“Was it bad?” I ask, self-consciousness gripping me.

“Are you kidding me?” he questions, his cheeks burning and a growl of pleasure filling his throat. “You sucked my soul out of my cock, Sweetness.”

The words make my eyes bug out. “Is that a good thing?”

“Fuck, yes,” he chuckles. “Thank you,” he adds with a contented growl and lopsided grin.

He motions for me to lie with him, and I snuggle happily against his furry, blond chest, listening to his booming heart. The comforting sound instantly lulls me towards sleep. Entangling his strong, long legs with mine, he leans up to pile branches over top of us.

Yawning, I whisper, “We don’t need those. It’s hot in the cave. Don’t you think?”

The corners of his mouth turn down. Draping his arm possessively around my shoulders, he observes, “You’re hot, not the cave.”

“It’s your fault, you know.”

“Oh, I know,” he chuckles, a tense edge to his voice as he raises his head, caressing my face. His brows furrow, and he opens his mouth, but nothing comes out.

Nestling my head against his chest with a satisfied sigh, I return to our game from earlier as he rests his head back. I ask, “Ice skating or horseback riding?”

“Neither.”

“Agreed.”

“Wait, that was a trick question?” he asks, lazily eyeing me. I nod, and he laughs, caressing my back and shoulders, covering my flesh in happy goosebumps.

“Yoga or pilates?”

“You’re being funny now.”

I cling to him despite the heat pouring from his body. His touch is the antidote to the anxiety triggered by the kidnapping, the only reason I can relax. “For your information, I prefer yoga.”

“Noted.” My heart thrills at the one-word response. It’s the first time he’s made it sound like there might be something beyond the cave for us. “What’s your favorite flower?”

“Daisies.”

He blinks, looking confused. “What do you mean? Like the purple and pink ones you see at Easter? Or the orange and red ones that grow wild?

I chuckle. “No, plain white ones with yellow centers.”

He snuggles me closer.

“Country or rock?” I yawn.

“Rock, but I’m more of an alternative and indie kind of guy. How about you?”

“An unrepentant fan of emo,” I giggle.

“No wonder you fell for me. I’m dark as hell.”

My consciousness fades away, traveling vast oceans toward sleep. Fighting it, I tease, “What do I have to do to get you to paint your fingernails black and wear eyeliner?”

“Shit, Sweetness, an Army Ranger in eyeliner? Hell, no.”

I purse my lips, drawing my mouth into a pout, even as my mind wanders, lapsing into delirium. “I can’t believe you said no to me.”

“I can’t, either. But eye?—”

His unfinished sentence is the last thing I remember before thick, heavy blackness consumes me.