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I continued to gaze at her, waiting for her to finish her statement.
“I’m what, Lily?” I paused. “Hungry? For you? Yes, I’m plenty of that. And when I’m done drinking, I’m going to eat your fucking cunt.”
THIRTY
Lily
Brady had set me across the glass table we’d been eating dinner on, covered my pussy with the red wine we’d been drinking, and buried his face between my legs. He hadn’t just used me as a glass. He licked me. He fingered me. And he was currently nearing me toward a second orgasm.
As my body climbed toward that riveting, steep point, my arms tried extending over my head, desperate to find something to hold on to, my fingers teasing the mound of spaghetti on his plate. I tried moving them sideways, and they hit my plate and glass of wine.
So, I held on to his hair and screamed, “Fuck,” while I twirled his thick black locks, clenching them in my grip.
That tongue.
“There’s nothing in this fucking world that tastes as good as you,” he rasped.
And there was simply nothing in this world that felt as good as him.
The way he knew just where to flick. That he focused on the spot at the very top, using the flatness of his tongue to massage and the tip to sweep. The way his finger knew what speed and angle to slide into me.
How the combination of the two almost immediately brought me back to that place again with hardly any rest in between.
“Yes,” I cried. “Don’t stop.”
“I want you to come on my fucking face.”
He didn’t even need to ask.
I was already there.
“Right now, Lily. Right fucking now.”
“Oh, yes!”
A rush shot through my body, starting at my clit that throbbed with sensations each time the wetness from his mouth slipped across it. From there, the passion trickled across my stomach, rose to my chest, and tingled its way down my legs.
But those were just the tail of the orgasm.
The core lived within my pussy, exploding with these fiery prickles, each one pounding harder, like fingers on piano keys during a song that was rising in sound.
“Brady!” I couldn’t get out more than one word. But that wasn’t the only thing that came out of me; there were moans too. Ones so loud that they vibrated through my body. “Ah!” And as those moans cascaded from my lips, they hit the air as if they were bolts of thunder.
Waves of shivers collided in my stomach, causing shudders to rocket through me. “Yes! Brady, fuck!”
He didn’t slow. What he did instead was lick until there was nothing left in me but breath, and when he was sure I had hit the sensitivity phase, my body completely still, he lifted my shirt to kiss across my stomach and my breasts. He shifted to my neck, throat, and chin, settling against my mouth.
“Kiss me,” he pressed. “I want you to know just how good you taste.”
His kisses were as ravenous as when he’d licked my pussy.
The sound of his belt buckle and zipper filled the silence. When those noises quieted, he pulled back to say, “I could have eaten your pussy all night.”
“It almost feels like you did.” I held his face. “For the record, I never wanted you to stop. I loved every second.”
He nipped my lip. He wasn’t soft. He wasn’t gentle either.
“Fuck me, you’re wet.” His dick was probing my entrance, a door that he was lightly knocking against, as though he knew I needed a few seconds to catch my breath and find my bearings before he dived in. “Is she ready for me?”
