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I laugh. “Fun. I like it…” I press my fingers between us against her clit and work it until she’s panting, then I stop short, just before she’s about to come and flip her to her belly, yank her hips up and slap her beautiful bare ass, pulling a yelp from her.
“Let’s make it even more fun, shall we?”
I hold onto one hip, then the other hand slides down over her soaking wet cunt. I stick my finger in, then pull it out.
She’s still, breathing hard, on her hands and knees and waiting for her climax.
I smile as I kiss her shoulder and then run both hands up and down her back, down her arms, across to cup her tits for a minute, pinching both nipples lightly.
She makes a sound of need. I grip my cock at the root and slide it down her ass cheeks, prodding then pushing it three inches into her heat before pulling back, dragging it through the wetness, then backing up.
She waits.
I wait.
She looks over her shoulder at me and fuck is she beautiful. She’s got a wanton look in her eyes. She wants my cock back.
“Ask for it.”
She frowns.
“Ask for my cock. Ask me to let you come.”
“No,” she whispers.
“No?”
“No,” she confirms.
“Over,” I grab both hips and she turns over onto her back.
I spread her legs wide, throw them over my shoulders, and press a kiss to her clit, then slide my middle finger through her wetness, getting it good and wet before prodding at her ass, then sliding it in.
Her body tightens for a moment, then relaxes as she looks at the ceiling, blinking. Frowning a little.
I caress her clit with my thumb while my middle finger is still in her ass. She’s waiting for it.
I dip my tongue into her cunt and slide my left hand up her soft skin, pinching her nipple again while wiggling my middle finger inside her.
She squirms. She wants more, but I’m keeping her on the edge for the moment, enjoying watching her seek more.
“Maybe you should beg me for it, Chloe,” I say.
“Not gonna happen,” she pants, gripping the sheets.
“We’ll see,” I whisper against her inner thigh. It’s out in goosebumps.
My phone rings.
I ignore it.
It rings again with my father’s ringtone. Fuck. There are three ringtones on my phone. My basic one. My father’s. And Chloe’s. Chloe’s only rang once, last Friday when she arrived at the office for our meeting. Thankfully I rarely get my father’s tone, but you don’t ignore my father’s ringtone if you’re one of his children.
I back off Chloe and grab the phone from my pants on the floor.
“Hello,” I answer with obvious irritation.
“Are you dealing with this online gossip bullshit, or should I have someone else do it?”
