Page 94 of Saxon

I groan. "Dear lord. I'm still too stupid for puns."

"You want coffee? I put the pot on before I got back in bed with you."

"I once shot someone for talking to me before I got coffee," I say. "Never been much of a morning person."

She snickers. "Anyone else, I'd laugh, hahaha, so funny. You…I doubt you're kidding."

"I'm not. I was stuck in a hideout house with these guys. We were watching a rival crew in preparation for a hit. This guy, he was fucking…chipper. Woke me up like, ‘Hi guys, time to work, let’s go let’s go, wakey-wakey eggs and bakey,’" I adopt a nerd voice for the impression. "So I shot his fuckin' jaw off."

She giggles again. "Well don't shoot my jaw off. I need it to suck your cock." She rolls off me and to her feet. "I'll get you coffee. You try to get your brain in gear."

I surge forward and off the bed, snag her around the middle, and toss her to the bed, all in one quick movement.

She squeals in laughter. "I thought you needed coffee or you'd shoot someone."

"I do. But I need something else, more."

"What's that?" She breathes.

"Pussy." I rip her thong apart and toss the pieces aside. "I need to make you scream."

"Oh…." she whispers, gasping as I lick up her seam. "I see. Well, you won't hear any arguments from me."

She's a hair trigger, with me at least. I have her at the edge in seconds, but this time, I take my time. I keep her at the edge, and then right before she comes, I change it up and pull her back. Just my tongue, at first. Get her wild and frustrated, ready to murder me if I don't let her come.

And then I add a finger. Pinch her nipples.

Still, I don't let her come.

She's writhing and thrashing and cursing me, begging for it.

Which is when I decide to see if I can make her come solely through nipple play.

I lick, twist, flick, bite, nibble, and suck her nipples until she's arched off the bed, whimpering, writhing.

I feel the edge, and I pinch each nipple hard, hold it, and she stops breathing, unable to even scream—I let go and softly suck one, and…

She comes. Spasms, jerking in half, knees pressed together and feet digging at the bed. I pry her thighs open and renew my oral assault on her pussy, adding a finger, and then two to her clamping, spasming sex.

Now, she comes in earnest. Screams, thrashing, almost fighting me, out of control. Her thighs lock around my head, heels hooked, toes curled, and I take this as a sign to keep going.

Three fingers, tongue wild on her clit, I bring her over the edge again, and now her fingers knot in my hair and she grinds against my mouth and fingers, chanting my name.

"Saxon, fuck, fuck, fuck, Saxon, Saxon, Saxon, fuck, fuck, Saxon, Fuck, fuck!"

I'd have gone for a fourth, but she quite firmly, almost aggressively, pulls me up.

"No more. Oh good god, honey, no more." She cradles me to her breasts. "Jesus, the things you can do with that filthy mouth of yours should be illegal."

"You started it."

She laughs. "True. I did start it. And I have absolutely zero regrets. But now you have to get me coffee because my legs aren't gonna work for at least ten minutes."

I walk naked into the kitchen and pour us two cups of coffee—she had the mugs out, creamer poured in hers already.

When I return to the bedroom, she's sitting up, cross-legged, waiting. I sit beside her and we sip coffee in silence.

"Best morning of my life," I murmur, between sips.