Page 17 of Jonesing for a Spy

“I’m close, Strider. I’m so close.”

I swear a smile breaks across his face, but I’m already floating, reeling, feeling. Every nerve is sensation. My belly coils. My breathing goes ragged, and he sucks like he wants nothing more than to pull me into him.

The bow snaps, the wires of my orgasm fraying, and I trip into bliss.

Falling.

Tumbling.

Exploding.

Strider

The sound of her release is my undoing. Her gasps are overcome by a moan that damn near has me coming in my pants.

Opening my eyes, I watch her face as ecstasy overcomes her, never stopping my work.

Am I distracted? Fuck yes. It’s the most incredible sight I’ve ever beheld.

I flick my tongue, pressing deeply into her clit, and her fist in my hair tightens.

I never want this to end. I could feast on her every meal of my life. Her honey and musk taste, her legs boxing my ears, holding me in place, the tug at my scalp that verges on painful.

And the show? It’s second to none.

Pink crawls across her face, her neck, her tits, even creeping toward her belly. Her head thrown back exposing her throat, her free hand grabbing the air for unknown relief.

Sliding my fingers from her, I replace them with my tongue, fucking her, lapping her release greedily.

“One more, Mirren. Need to watch you come again.” I return to her clit just as her thighs release my head and her hand brushes through my hair, but not in a tug.

“I—” She throws a hand over her face, hiding herself from me.

“What?”

“I can’t do multiples. I’ve never been able⁠—”

I cut off that thought. I do not want to know what or who came before. I’ll lose my dinner even thinking about it.

She doesn’t know the patience I have or the fight I have in me. She can’t know that my new sole mission in life is that she comes until she’s rung out and her legs can’t hold her up. She’ll learn quickly that I plan to ruin her forever until I’m the only man who can satisfy her.

Lifting a hand, I roll a nipple with my thumb and forefinger. All the while, I dive back into her pussy, feasting like she’s my last meal. I’m a glutton for Mirren Jones. Hell, I’d probably commit all the deadly sins for this woman.

But all I can think is she needs a second, then a third, and I’m the man to give them to her. The only man. And that starts now.

“Just feel, okay?”

“I c⁠—”

“Just feel.” My words are a growl. The shiver that runs through her vibrates into my mouth.

I flirt with her pussy, teasing and building. I lick and nibble. I use my tongue on her entrance. I hum and blow. But her clit is my nirvana, and I spend my energy coaxing, toying, leading, playing.

When her hips rise to meet me, I smile and press her pelvis down with a hand. “Nu-uh. I’m in control.” I suck hard, flicking, and never letting up.

Her gasping breaths tell me she’s close. She finally groans and stills, but not in bliss. In defeat.

So I do what I must… set my teeth to her clit and nip.