Page 117 of On Edge

A distraction fuck.

I’m not going to kiss her, not her lips. But I’ll taste everywhere else, taking my time to enjoy what I’ve been abstaining from, shoving my cock into her tight, willing hole.

Her dress is light wool and easily slips off her shoulder. I yank down her bra, revealing her nipples to be hard as bullets, her skin pebbling in the cool air of the kitchen.

She trembles when my breath warms them.

She moans, fingers tugging my hair, arching into me as I bite her softly, and then suck hard, flicking her sensitive part with my tongue.

And she chews her lip hard enough to leave marks, trying to hold back sounds she doesn’t want to make. But they escape anyway, small, desperate little whimpers that fucking undo me.

Every way she responds to me makes my cock strain for her, primed, precum coating the tip, and it takes everything I have not to hold her down and make her lick it off with that pink tongue of hers, or pound her on the kitchen counter until she breaks or the table does.

Because I’m done being a gentleman.

I kiss down her belly; her dress is now yanked to her waist. And she shivers when I glide my tongue past her belly button. Her eyes are closed, head back, so it makes it easier. But then her lashes flutter open, and she looks at me with those big brown, doe-eyes of hers, distrust and hurt filling them to the brim.

And I can’t fucking do it.

So I gather her up in my arms and flip her over, so that she’s not looking at me anymore, but pressing her cheek against the steel counter with her ass in the air instead.

An ass ripe for abusing.

My hand wraps around her hair and pulls her head back, allowing me to kiss the line of her jaw and grind my dick into her ass, showing her just how hard she makes me.

A taste of what’s to come.

“Troy,” she breathes out. But she doesn’t tell me to stop.

I can’t stop.

I shove up the hem of her dress. The fabric bunches in my fist, soft wool giving way easily. Her skin underneath is impossibly smooth, unmarked.

She wriggles but doesn’t stop me as I slip my hand between her legs. Christ, she’s wet. I stroke over the damp part of her cotton panties, and then ease them aside.

She’s soaked, dripping all over me.

Fuck.

Then I shove two fingers into her.

A small, shocked sound escapes her, and her whole body tenses, then slowly melts. She wasn’t expecting that.

“How does that feel?”

“A little painful…but nice.”

I bite her earlobe, and then…

“Do you need me deeper inside you?”

She nods.

I draw down her knickers, so she’s exposed for me, and then tease her slit again, stroking her clit each time, until she’s panting, clawing at the steel surface. Then I shove four fingers in hard and deep, leaving my thumb free to massage her pretty asshole.

“Troy…!” She breathes. Her little pants are cute. “What are you doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing?”