Page 45 of Green Flag (StormSprint #2)

“Say it again.”

Such a delicious tease.

“I want to fuck you. I’ve got to fuck you.”

“Turn—turn the lights off,” she said, eyes closed, sitting straight as she ground her hips against me. “Turn the lights off and I’ll take off my panties.”

My heart almost stopped.

“You won’t be fucking me tonight, Luca Mendes. You’re not half as wound up as you need to be for that.”

Clearly, I wasn’t getting my point across.

“I’m near to insanity,” I said in her ear, brushing her hair back.

Not a lie. The truest truth I’d ever uttered.

She moaned in my ear, “See? You’re not there yet.”

Yet. So there was hope.

I didn’t let her off me, scooping her up in my arms as she cried, clutching me harder with her arms around my neck and her thighs around my waist. I slammed my fist against the square light switch, casting us in darkness.

Why she didn’t want me to see her was beyond me, but my focus was on tearing her clothes off as I pulled her underwear down her thighs, ripping them from her body.

Her kisses down my neck seemed almost innocent to what that mouth had done minutes before and the words she had finally uttered.

“You going to soak my cock, Everly?”

She nodded into the crook of my neck as I settled us onto the bed. She had already been wriggling against me, trying to line herself up with my cock. She whimpered when she got the angle.

We weren’t cast in complete darkness. We were four floors up, but a streetlight directly below illuminated the room enough for us to see each other’s outlines.

There was no silhouette quite like hers.

The edge of her curls and body glowed as if she was an ethereal being—the goddess of night and inappropriate erections.

She was still in her dress, though it had cascaded down her smooth body with my rough movement.

Her folds hugged my cock as she rolled up and down me, sitting upright, head flown back as she let herself loose.

I could tell her that I wanted to ram my cock down her throat until she couldn’t breathe, fuck her, grope her, taste her, spank her. I couldn’t tell her I wanted to kiss her.

Somehow, that was what would ruin the mood.

She thrust forward, her whole weight choking my cock and there was nothing more I wanted but to grab her neck, pull her down and thrust up into her. Take her for the few seconds I would surely last and have a hold of her, nowhere near as tight as the grip she had on me.

Be rough with me, her eyes had pleaded.

So I did the first part. I gripped her hair and tugged her forward, reaching for her breast with my mouth and swirling my tongue over her nipple before blowing as it had got her so flustered last time.

She moaned in my ear, her hair falling over my face as her hips worked me into a damn frenzy.

I didn’t need to see. I let myself be in the moment, smelling her floral shampoo, hearing her laboured breaths, feeling the smooth slide of her pussy against my cock.

This would be the moment I’d come back to whenever I was alone.

When I spanked her, fingers spread, she jolted forward, her nipple falling free from my mouth, but I eagerly chased her again, needing whatever taste I could get.

“Yes,” she cried. “Yes.”

So I spanked her again and again. Her cries became more mewls of pleasure and I could feel the slightest pulse of her pussy against me, the shudder that ran through her with each slap of her ass.

My cock was drenched.

And it would be too easy to sink into her.

Pound into her.

My cock was throbbing, needing more than the press of her up against it, needing to be inside of her.

I reached around to pull her cheeks and she grunted into my mouth as I spanked her again. When my fingers crept towards her ass, she slowed her thrusts, her breath ragged on my lips, waiting.

My fingertips ran over her tight rear hole and she gasped, her arms buckling until she was lying flat on me, moaning as I reached down to drag her arousal from her pussy up to her asshole again.

She shook in my hold, her wordless moaning all the encouragement I needed.

I glided my fingertips over her, her breath catching as she rocked up and down me still.

Her body sucked my finger in and I pulsed it inside of her as she mewled.

“Fuck, yes,” she moaned and her rocking picked up.

There was no way I’d ever get inside of her. Especially not through anal, anyway. Though I couldn’t help but imagine it: her on all fours, needing to be spoken through it, panting beneath me and begging for more.

“Mmmm,” she moaned on a particularly slow slide from the base of my cock to the head, but she lowered herself to run kisses down my jaw, and the different angle forced my cock into warm, tight territory.

She froze.

I stiffened.

I’d edged her vagina so many times that one night, but I’d never pressed in. My cock was less than an inch inside her. Hardly a centimetre.

My fingers slipped from her ass.

“Just the… just the tip,” she said, starting to rotate her hips, dragging my cock with her.

“Fuck, Everly,” I grunted and I wanted to spank her again, but if I did… she might jolt off my cock and never return.

“Just the tip,” she said again and started to bounce, sinking slightly. Ever so slightly.

My heart was pounding in my chest, eyes rolling back as she whimpered. Her pussy choked my cock so deliciously. It was animal instinct to push further, but I had to contain the predatory, primal need.

She said, ‘Just the tip,’ as if it were her new mantra—as if she couldn’t live without it, couldn’t cope with more.

And yet, I was praying to a god I didn’t believe in, that really she was trying to persuade herself she didn’t want more.

Like I did.

“Just the head,” she said and my eyes opened as she sank further and I was going to lose my mind. There were no thoughts in my rioting brain other than the pleasure of her in my hands.

And more, more, more .

She wanted me to be rough, but I was taking a complete back seat at the changing pace.

Her bouncing picked up, her thighs lifting and lowering more ferociously as she took more of me.

Her breaths. Her smell. Her hair. Her warmth.

Her.

I was going to fuck Everly Bacque. I tried to lie still, tried to think about not coming, tried to be the good person I wanted to be.

The thread of my control was stretching, so close to snapping.

My arms fell from her, so I didn’t grab her hips and ram her down on my cock.

Not how I’d expected this to go down.

Fuck, she must have thought I wasn’t into it.

I was. But how did I show that? Without thrusting up into her and ravaging her like I needed?

Because the thread was straining, like my cock. Words were beyond me. We’d both been drinking. She was worth everything, far more than a tipsy tousle in the sheets.

If I ever had the honour of making love to Everly Bacque, I wanted to be able to remember every second.

I pulled her chest down onto mine and rolled us over so I was on top. In the same movement, I tugged her to the edge of the bed and lifted her legs, tying them together by the ankles with my hand while pressing my cock between the apex of her thighs and not into her.

She tensed her thighs, squeezing my cock between them, and looking down, at how my cock glistened… yep, I could come. Happily. Easily.

Spurt out my seed all over her pussy, chest, face. Wherever she wanted it.

The familiar tightening of my balls made me look back up to the outline of her body. Watching my cock disappear between her legs was too much temptation to slam into her.

So I went down to my knees, hooked my arms around her thighs and pulled her to the hang over the edge of the bed so I could lap up how wet she was for me. I didn’t rush, my tongue flat against her. I savoured her, tracing every part of her pussy with my tongue.

We had a room together for the foreseeable future, but this was the only night I knew I had unrestricted, pantyless time with her pussy.

From a self-proclaimed lover of the tease, I fully intended to relish in this. But each of her exhales became a sob; she needed release so badly. She lifted herself further into my mouth.

I could see the tear tracks down her cheeks glistening in the low light, her teeth so deep in her bottom lip that they were paling. They’d have little divots from her bite.

Her clit in my mouth, I flicked my tongue before lightly sucking and then she was writhing under my touch, her hands deep within my hair, digging into my skull. She screamed as she came, a loud, pained cry, but I continued, watching her as the strangled noise ripped from her throat.

My lips fastened to her clit, I didn’t let up.

She’d said no penetration… but could I press my tongue into her? I’d always been a firm believer that eating pussy included fingers.

I may have been inside of her already… but that had been a happy accident.

Caressing her opening with my tongue, I gently, slowly grazed my fingers up her thighs, feeling them tense, her spread legs inching closer together as if to defend herself. But her moans remained consistent, somewhere between murmuring my name and high-pitched whimpers.

When my tongue trailed back up to her clit, my finger encircled her pussy, stroking lightly.

“Yes,” she sobbed, squirming down onto my hand, encouraging my finger’s entrance. “Yes, Luca.”

A pleased hum vibrated from her lips when I dipped my finger into her, down to the first knuckle, pulsing inside.

Her whine was loud, frustrated as my fingers massaged her thighs, sitting back on my heels, watching her squeal in frustration.

“More,” she begged. “More, please.”

Panting, she lifted up on her elbows to glare down at me over her heaving chest.

“Luca,” she moaned. “Luca, you’ve got to. I’m so empty. You need to—”

“Or what?” I taunted, continuing the slightest movement inside her.

“Or…or…” She looked dazed, around the room, shaking her head. “Or I’m going to cry. I want you. Please. You can fist me all you like.”

Well, fuck.

I ate her. I kissed her pussy, folds, clit, as if I were kissing her actual mouth as I’d wanted to. As I pressed two fingers into her.