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Like talking about making a woman feel gross, huh?
And then if he did actually go down on me, I always worried what it was like for him.
It also didn’t help that he licked… oh, God, what a word… he licked… like he was sticking his tongue to a nine volt battery.
Cutter’s tongue tastes everywhere.
He makes my legs jump.
My head falls back and I stare at the ceiling of my kitchen.
My hands shake as I grab at the counter. I don’t want to grab at the counter anymore…
Cutter moves his hands just enough so that his thumbs are digging at the front of my hips.
And you know what?
Every woman has a certain spot that just works for them. Some random spot.
Cutter found mine.
Him pressing at the front of my hips…
“Fuck,” I groan.
Cutter’s tongue cuts up.
He touches my clit and I let out a yelp.
My hands launch from the counter and I grab for his hair.
Now I can’t help but look down.
I have to see this. I have to know I’m not dreaming this.
Oh, I’m not dreaming at all.
And what does Cutter do right then?
His eyes look up at mine.
While his tongue massages my clit.
I keep my mouth closed and groan over and over.
I can’t believe how good it feels.
To be touched. To be kissed.
To be kissed between my legs.
From a guy like Cutter Buckley.
I mean, okay, listen, how can I not do this for a second, right?
Cutter Buckley is a famous baseball player! That’s right. A rich, famous baseball player is going down on me. In my kitchen. Right now.
Talk about taking full control of yourself, right?
