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The rough pads of his thumbs tease around the elastic waist of my panties while his mouth continues to lavish attention between my thighs, but only on the places that make the tension in my body curl tighter, not the one place that would relieve it.
“You’re so easy to tease,” he rasps. “So easy you’d think it would get less fun. But it hasn’t.”
Mewling with want, I tilt my hips to press my center close to him, hoping for some contact, some friction, to dull the sharp ache of need that’s stabbing into me, but Tuck draws back just enough to frustrate me.
Tension winds tighter inside me when he finally draws back to pull my panties down my legs. Heat swells in my cheeks when I look down and see the gleam of appreciation in Tuck’s eyes, his gaze fixed on my wet opening.
A low, rumbly hum of appreciation pulls from his throat.
Finally, the wet scrap of fabric is on the kitchen floor next to where he’s kneeling between me, and I’m utterly bare for him.
“Fuck, Olivia,” he rasps. “This pussy is so perfect. It’s a fucking work of art.”
When his tongue drags across me, my body goes taut with pleasure. My hands curl into his messy hair, trying to steady myself. Tuck teases me, licking languidly at his leisure. His growls of satisfaction add a vibration that heightens the pleasure rippling over me.
“More,” I pant, bucking my hips, my naked ass pressing into the countertop as Tuck feasts on me.
Tuck’s lips delve into my folds, lapping up my juices. My stomach is a tight, hot coil of pressure, expanding and radiating through my body. My lower back tingles, my stomach leaps into my chest, my body going crazy as sheer bliss throttles through me.
When Tuck slants his tongue over my clit, a moan leaps from me.
That’s his cue to stop being so leisurely.
The kitchen is full of my moans and yelps as Tuck devours me, his lips lavishing my folds, his tongue curling around my tight nub with the perfect amount of force.
I lock my ankles behind him, clenching my thighs around his face, feeling the rough abrasion of his stubble against my sensitive skin. His fingertips kneed into the softness of my hips as he groans and curses in satisfaction between my legs.
When the flat of his tongue passes over my clit at just the right angle, I unravel. My climax detonates inside me, hurtling through me and making my limbs shake. My eyes clench, my fists tightening in Tuck’s hair as I ride out my release.
Tuck’s on his feet to give me something to lean into after my orgasm wrings me dry. Aftershocks of bliss are still flowing over me when he lifts my chin with the back of his knuckle and presses his lips to mine.
My eyes pop open when I taste myself on his lips. I taste it even more when his tongue presses into my mouth and slides against my own.
Tuck presses his forehead against mine. His hooded eyes have a drugged look; his lips are swollen from our kiss and still glistening with my juices.
“We made it,” he says.
“Huh?”
A lopsided grin makes one of his dimples pop. “We finished before Summer got back.”
I huff out a shallow laugh. “Right. That’s good.”
“Would’ve been quite a way for her to find out about us.”
A breath whooshes out of me. “That’s for sure.”
“Was it worth it?”
“Was what worth it?” Tuck needs to stop talking in riddles when my brain is still scrambled from coming on his face.
His eyes crawl down to my naked bottom half. “Was the orgasm worth the risk?”
I roll my eyes and hit his chest with the palm of my hand. “Stop asking questions you know the answer to just to boost your ego.”
Tuck steps aside so I can hop off the counter. He leans against it, arms folded over his chest, eyeing me appreciatively as I get dressed.
“It’s a hell of a paradox,” he drawls. “You putting more clothes on is the opposite of what I want. But seeing you actually getting dressed is sexy as hell.”
