“Your pussy is so fucking sweet,” I growl against her flesh, lapping at her, tasting her arousal on my tongue.
I slide a second finger in.
“So tight, little bird.”
“Shut up.”
I pump her with my fingers whilst I toy with her clit, sucking it into my mouth, nipping at it with my teeth.
“Oh fuck!” She moans.
“Come for me,” I demand.
I curl my fingers inside, finding the rough patch on her internal walls and she comes undone. “That’s it, little bird, all over my tongue, I want to taste it.” Her thighs clamp around my head, her hips grind on my face and I continue to lick her, tasting it, feeling it with every spasm and roll of her hips.
“Yes, oh fuck, yes!” She screams.
When her pussy calms I pry her thighs apart and come up for air, leaving her arousal all over my face. Her eyes narrow when I go to the first button of my shirt.
She watches with intense focus as I flick through each one and then slide the shirt off my shoulders. Her eyes roam over every inch of me, eyes snagging on the scars that litter my abdomen. The stab wound beneath the ribs, the lacerations across my stomach, the bullet hole in my shoulder. Let’s not forget about the fresh one in my arm, courtesy of this little siren.
I flick the button on my pants and shove them and my boxers down to the floor. My cock bobs in front of me, hard and ready.
She swallows.
I jerk my hand up the shaft, smearing the precum over the crown.
“Are you ready, little bird?”