She swallowed. “About five years ago.”
I tsked under my breath. “Do good girls touch themselves, Aoife?”
I didn’t know why I was asking the question but fuck, it made my cock pound and from the sight of her dilated eyes, I knew she was wound up tighter than a spring, too.
“It’s a sin,” she half-mewled.
“I know. That’s why I asked.”
I reached over, pressed my hand above hers and began to move her fingers. As we moved them together, she whimpered, her eyes fell closed, and her lips parted.
“That’s a sin, Aoife,” I told her gravely, watching the slick lips of her pussy, seeing the juices that were gathering there.
I couldn’t believe how wet she was.
I’d known, when I walked into her teashop, she was attracted to me. I’d known that I could have gotten her here, in this room, with no coercion whatsoever. But that she was here, despite my coercion, and that she was dripping onto my coverlet like I’d been tongue fucking her for the past thirty minutes?
Well, it had me reaching down, unfastening my zipper and pulling my cock through the fly. The relief was instantaneous, and I gripped my shaft as we both worked her sweetly wet little cunt.
Her head moved from side to side, slowly at first, slowly. Then faster, faster, until it became a thrashing motion. Then, just when her thighs tensed, I pulled my hand back.
This time, her head shot up, and confusion and fear and panic threaded together in those emotive emerald eyes of hers. “W-Why did you stop?”
Because I’m a bastard?
I didn’t say that, though, just motioned at my cock. Her eyelids fluttered at the sight, but what was all the more delicious was the way her skin turned bright pink like it had back in her tea room.
“Roll over and rest your neck against the edge of the bed.”
She looked confused, her brow puckered with uncertainty as she moved. Her submissiveness satisfied something in me, pleased some integral part of me. But what made me fucking burn was how, when she moved, and her thighs rubbed together, she paused, dipped her head to moan at the sensation, then like she’d been drugged, carried on with my orders.
There was something about her that got to me.
It was like she hadn’t done this before. Like her body wasn’t used to these sensations, but I knew that to be bullshit.
Was this all an act, then?
Fuck, if the thought didn’t infuriate me.
I wanted to snarl at her to hurry up, but she was already in position. Her head tilted back against the side of the bed so that I could dip my shaft into her mouth when I wanted to.
“Spread your legs again,” I directed. When she’d obeyed, I murmured, “You can touch your hungry little cunt, you can even come, but you have to take everything I give you. Do you understand?”
She nodded, but I knew, deep down, that she didn’t. What the fuck?
With her hands between her legs, I muttered, “Make your mouth wet, work up some spit, and when you have enough, open up for me.”
Though she frowned, she did as bid.
When I sank my cock into her wet, slick mouth, I almost shot off like I’d pushed into her cunt.
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.
I swore at the ceiling as I gazed up at it, I cursed at the picture she made when I began to thrust my dick into her greedy mouth.
Fuck.
She took me so perfectly.