Page 38 of Desperate Games

Starving for her. For this.

“S’good, Baby. You taste fucking divine.”

Her legs start to shake, and I lift her hips—pull them up and off the couch, fastening her to my mouth so she’s riding my face and doing some kind of backbend onto the seat cushion.

She’s close. So close. I feel her fingers trying to pull my hair, but it’s too short, so she just grabs my head.

I wrap my arms around her, holding the bulk of her like she weighs nothing at all—and really, she doesn’t.

Not compared to me.

I’m a big fucking guy, and my Andy is curvy and delicious but hardly what I’d call big. She probably thinks she is. But that’s a problem I can work on later.

Right now, I have an orgasm to taste.

“Remy!” she screams my name as she hits that first crest, and I smile against her sweet pussy.

That’s one.

She gasps, still breathless as I loosen my hold.

“Holy shit! That was,” she tapers off with a groan.

“Yeah,” I mutter, still licking, gently now.

She tries to close her legs, but I’m not done. I kiss her again on her mound, then I slide my hand down her stomach, teasing her entrance with one thick finger.

Her mouth opens and she moans. Loudly. Her walls squeeze my finger, trying to pull me in deeper.

Needy little thing.

“Christ, Baby, you feel that? You need me to fill you? Need my big dick stroking inside you, making you come, is that what you need, Baby?”

She whimpers. Fucking whimpers.

I’m already undoing my pants with my other hand as I pump two fingers now inside her tight channel.

I drag her ass to the edge of the couch, taking her legs and dropping them on my shoulders as I fit my cock to her entrance.

“Tell me, Andy. Tell me what you want.”

Her big eyes lock on mine, and she licks her lips.

I can see it. Her internal struggle.

The way she needs to find her courage to say the dirty things I want her to say.

I wonder if she’s ever done that before.

Talked dirty to anyone. And I decide no for two reasons.

First, I’d have to hunt down any bastard who made my Andy talk dirty, and I’d have to take his ears.

Second, the way she looks embarrassed and turned on is too real to be faked.

Still, the moment is ripe with anticipation, and I feel sweat beading on my brow as I wait. It’s killing me not to push inside, but I manage to stay still as she makes up her mind.

“Tell me,” I repeat.