“Philippe,” I pant. I tug at his hair like I’m a wild animal to try and get him closer. I shove my hips into his face, and my whole back arches off the bed. I twist and writhe beneath him, savoring the pleasure of his incredible finger inside me. Even if it’s not what I want, it’s like white-hot heat searing me from the inside out.
Suddenly, he lifts his head and stops. My eyes fly open to see what the delay is. “Do you like it?”
“Yes,” I nearly scream. “Of course, I like it! Can’t you tell?”
He gives me a devious grin. God, his chin is wet. Glistening. And his lips are wet too. Is the wetness from the Jacuzzi, or from me leaking all over his face? Christ. “Just checking. Would you like more?”
“Argh! Yes! You told me you’d make me beg. I’m begging already. This is me telling you that you need to freaking let me come. Please. Right now. More. All the way.”
“Like this?” He slowly inserts his finger into my channel, inch by slow freaking inch. I nearly jump out of my skin.
“Yes! Yes! Just like that.”
“Like this?” His hot lips caress my hot lips, around his finger, and his tongue sweeps a slow, brutal, teasing circle over my clit. No pressure. Just his tongue. Hot. Wet. Glorious.
“Y—yes! Just like that!”
All of a sudden, he stops again, and I have to bite down hard on my lower lip to keep from letting out a scream of frustration. I open my eyes to find him staring at me like the devil himself, eyes shimmering so blue that they’re like the depths of the sea. Pupils dilated, eating up those irises. Lips parted and wet. Wet from me. Quirked into a smile because he’s obviously enjoying this.
“Maybe you’d like to ride my face.”
“I’d like to ride something alright and it’s not your face.” I let my head drop back to the mattress with a groan. Why did I just say that? I shouldn’t have put that out there. The thing we can’t do. The thing we absolutely cannot do.
“I could pull out.”
“Are you crazy?!” I sit up in a hurry again. “No! That is the worst plan ever!”
“Sorry.” He shrugs. “It’s the only solution. I’m generally controlled enough that there wouldn’t be any chance of messing it up.”
“Just the tip? Is that what you’re saying?” I whimper, thinking about his thick tip sliding into me, filling me and stretching me painfully. The empty, throbbing sensation roars back with a vengeance, and I let out a small groan.
“Nope. The whole thing. But I will pull out with lots of time to spare.”
“That seems like a horrible plan.”
“Actually, lots of people use it. It’s called family planning.”
I think back quickly. I ovulated a few days ago. The best chances of getting pregnant aren’t that great, even at the best time. So…if I’ve already ovulated, I should be safe. Probably. And it’s not like he’d actually finish inside. There would be no chance of that. It’s not a good plan. I know that. I know it. But the longer I think about it, the longer my protests and good sense get drowned out by the heat rising through me. By the thought of his massive cock inside me. By the orgasm to end all orgasms. Also, birth control is supposed to stay in your system for months even after you stop taking it, right? I’m pretty sure it’s true.
As I’m in thinking, he continues, “Never mind. That’s stupid. I’ll just…you can ride my face. Don’t worry. I can do some pretty impressive things with my tongue.”
“I have no doubt. But…I…are you sure that you could pull out in time? Like, a few minutes before? And finish yourself off while I watch?”
His eyes darken, and his nostrils flare. “Yes. But not if you keep talking dirty like that. I won’t even make it inside you, to begin with, and you’ll have to settle for what I can do with my other organs.”
“Just, please. Please, stop talking and…and get inside me already.”
Philippe straightens. It’s only a few heartbeats more before he’s pressing me to the bed, stretching all his delicious muscles over me. His body is the stuff of seriously wonderful dreams. Like people would probably actually weep and pay money to look at it. And now it’s touching me. His chest is pressed to my chest, and his hands are braced on either side of my face. His hips and legs are like granite pillars, and somehow, he fits. He fits between mine.
Philippe claims my mouth, kissing me so hard and deep that I can feel my head pressing back into the mattress. I can feel him. There. Right there. He’s so close—all hardness and heat and passion. I curl my leg over one massive hip and get my foot into position on his ass cheek—seriously, can an ass cheek actually be made of granite—and press in. At least, I try to press my heel in, but his butt cheek is seriously rock hard, and my heel does absolutely no sinking in.