“I wish you didn’t need to be involved.” I can’t seem to speak over a whisper.
His lips curl slightly. Is that a smile? But it’s gone in an instant. “I want this,” he says, and I don’t know if he means me or helping me and I’m not sure it matters. His hands move down to the hem of my skirt as he shifts his weight and drops to his knees.
My mouth falls open with a shocked groan.
I stare at him, unable to speak, unable to move. He tilts his head as if he’s curious about what I’ll do as he lifts my skirt up, up, and up. Tingles follow each caress of his fingers on my bare skin like a line of pleasure marching up toward my core. I’m dripping, pulsing, want filling me to the brim with juddering, jagged edges. He shoves my legs wider, not gently, until my skirt is up around my waist and he’s looking at my bare thighs and my black panties, the deep, dark spark beginning to smolder in his expression, that hidden reservoir of emotion I know is hidden below his surface.
“When I say I’m going to do something, I do it,” he says quietly and dips his mouth forward to kiss my inner thigh.
I gasp and grab his hair. “Ansell.”
“Pearce.” He kisses me again then bites me softly. “Are you trying to make me stop? I don’t want to stop.”
I hesitate then open my legs wider. I shake my head. “No, please don’t.”
“Good girl.” He kisses me again, moving up closer to my pussy as a wild euphoria rips between my legs. I can’t believe this is happening, but part of me knew it would—once Ansell got a taste of me, it’s like he has my scent in his nose and he can’t give it up. I’m breathing faster and staring at this gorgeous man and his lips feel like heaven on the soft, supple, vulnerable skin of my inner thigh, and I realize I’m at his mercy in so many ways.
Physically, yes, emotionally too, but he’s also my ticket out of my horrible situation. That’s not lost on me right now.
“I’m afraid,” I say and I’m not sure if I mean of him or of the situation. Probably both. He could ruin me if he wanted, and I think there’s some darkness in this man. He’d destroy me for his own amusement, or his own pleasure, if it meant truly feeling something. And yet I’m not sure he’ll do it, and I want to find out.
All I know is fear and desire mix freely and I can barely control myself.
“Good.” His eyes flash. More emotion: want, pleasure. He bites me again, this time harder, and I whimper in surprise and pull his hair. He groans and shoves my panties aside roughly before burying his mouth on my pussy, his tongue rolling up and down my folds, soft and warm and heaven, as pleasure spikes and rolls between my legs and my back arches, my head thrown back, my fingers digging into his scalp.
“I want you scared and moaning,” he whispers as he shoves two fingers deep inside of me and leans forward to kiss my lips. I taste myself on his tongue and I moan into his kiss as he fucks me with those long, strong fingers, curling up and down and driving me wild. “I want you coming and I want you to taste it.”
“Fuck, Ansell,” I whisper, panting, and he bites my lip hard before pressing his fingers against my G-spot. I gasp as pleasure and pain rip into my mind and I feel like I might break, and I want to break, I want this man to wreck me and leave me pulsing and wanting on the floor. I’m so far gone right now that any bit of joy or pleasure is like a lifeline keeping me from drowning.
He drops back down and licks me furiously, tongue working around in gorgeous circles. He sucks me harder, almost too hard, and I squeeze his hair and pull it. He seems to like the pain and goes faster, working me hard, fucking me with his fingers while his lips and tongue destroy my clit.
“Come for me, you dirty girl,” he says, demanding my surrender as he keeps fucking me. “Come for me. I want to taste it and when I’m done, I want you to lick it from my lips.”
“Oh, fuck,” I gasp as my back arches and he goes back down between my legs. I come in a wave, a lightning storm, and he demolishes my pussy with his tongue and fingers and I nearly black out as every muscle in my body tense and contracts as a massive orgasm rips me to pieces.
He purrs like a sated tiger and grabs my hair again. I gasp in pain as he pulls my head back and slowly he kisses me, licking my lips, licking my tongue, making me taste the earthy aftereffects of my pussy and my orgasm. When he’s done, he releases me and steps back. I stay there, breathing hard, legs spread and panties askew, my own juice on my lips as he stares at me with hard eyes filled with passion.