“What is it, princess?” he whispers, letting his skilled lips gently drag across mine. “You want me to stop? Because if you say stop, I will.”
I bite my lip, knowing what my answer should be. This prick is the most presumptuous, arrogant, rage-inducing man I’ve ever met, and comes off like the world’s biggest asshole. But having said that, this last hour we’ve spent together has ignited a spark inside of me that I’ve never felt before.
I fight back against his question with my eyes, lean quickly forward and aggressively lick his lips like a dog. I see a brief flash of surprise across his chiseled features, but when I grind against his hand, it’s immediately swept away by lust.
“Mmm, fuck,” he replies with a growl I can feel in his chest as it presses against mine. “Not as innocent as you look, are you?”
“You sure talk a big game,” I snap back at him, snatching his thick bulge with my hand. “You all talk or are you all action, big boy?”
I don’t know where that came from. Maybe it’s the way he’s has been teasing me, or maybe it’s the fact that he’s just such a prick that I want to stand up to him somehow, but my hormones are raging as his eyes swell with a lust I’ve never seen.
I may have been taunting him, but there was no way I could have anticipated his next move. With a shit-eating grin, he bends down and snatches me up with one arm and throws me over his shoulder like I weigh absolutely nothing. I cry out as he carries me to the couch and tosses me down. The impact is rough and actually knocks some of the breath from my lungs, but I’m not even given a chance to recover; he is on me.
He snatches me by the jaw and pulls my lips to his and presses his tongue into my mouth like he’s expecting me to fight back. I don’t. Why would I? In fact, I want to tell him just how badly he’s turned me on – how his sweaty, hard body, covered in grease and filth, has my pussy sopping wet between my thighs, how his asshole attitude has had me off balance since the moment we first met and how he’s making me want to do things with him that I’ve never even dreamt of before.
But I don’t. I don’t want to give him the satisfaction. His ego is big enough; he doesn’t need me inflating it even more. But it doesn’t even matter, because apparently, on top of being a dick, the arrogant mechanic is also a psychic.
“I know what you want, city girl,” he coos in my ear. “I feel your wetness soaking your panties. You want a guy like me to ruin you, and that’s what I’m going to do.”
He tears my shirt straight up the middle like it was made of tissue. A $1,200 Gucci now ruined. Who gives a fuck? I’m not wearing a bra and he lunges down on top of me and wraps his lips around my hard nipple. I whimper and arch my back up off the couch and feel his enormous bulge press between my legs. What does he have down there?
He applies more pressure between my legs and my clit pulses, lighting my world on fire.
“Oh, fuck…” I moan. I want to say his name, but I realize I don’t even know it! “Wait, w—wait,” I stammer. “Hang on, hot stuff.”
“You don’t want to stop,” he growls. “Don’t pretend.”
“I—I want to know your name!”
For a split second, the strong-jawed mechanic stops what he’s doing and looks into my eyes. I see a hint of amusement and start to look away, but he grabs my jaw and pulls me back to him.
“Just call me sir for now.” It sounds like an order.
“I—”
“Shhh,” he says, placing a finger across my lips. “Sir or you bastard. Whichever.”
I wonder if he’s kidding, but there’s no more humor in his eyes, and before I know it, he’s gripping my hips with his strong, callused hands. I swallow hard as he hooks his thumbs in the strings of my panties and tugs, pulling them all the way down to my ankles.
“Your pussy is bare,” he says, almost angrily. “Who are you trying to please?”
“I—”
“You know what?” he growls. “It doesn’t fucking matter.”
The next thing he does blows my fucking mind; he leans in, stuffs his face between my legs, and sinks his teeth into my thighs just below my pussy.
“Ow!” I cry out. “What the fuck are you doing?!”
He pulls back and I see two red arcs on my skin.
“Marking you as mine,” he says with a sly grin. “I own your body now.”
I should slap him. Hell, I should kick him in his handsome fucking face. But before I can think, he has my legs pinned up above my head. I cry out when I feel his tongue find my slit and spread me open. My whole body screams with golden desire, the sharp pain in my leg contrasting the unbelievable feeling of his mouth on my holiest of holies.
Gritting my teeth, I snatch a fistful of his hair and stare down between my legs to find him staring up at me as his tongue rolls my clit with utter perfection. I practically snarl as I drip into his mouth. My orgasm swells and I clamp my thighs around his head. He just smiles back at me, never stopping, not even for a second.
My world rocks as I come. This isn’t real life; this is something out of a romance novel – or a porno! It looks like that twisted tongue of his can do a whole lot more than just talk shit.