“Why?”
He kisses my bare collarbone. “’Cause you’re so proper.”
“Maybe we should roleplay sometime. I’ll dress up as a nun, and you can be a priest.”
“Don’t know about that. I haven’t been to church in years, darlin’.”
He’s so cute when he’s being clueless. “Neither have I. That doesn’t mean I can’t dress up as a nun.”
“What would we do if you were dressed as a nun?”
Do I actually have to explain this to him? Sigh.
My hands run over his bare chest as he plays with my boobs and gyrates between my legs. “Well. I’d pretend I wasn’t able to flirt with you on account of I’ve given myself to God—and I’m a good girl.”
He presses forward, hard dick pressing against the apex of my thighs. “A good girl, hey?”
“The goodest,” I murmur when he licks my skin from the curve of my shoulder to the spot beneath my earlobe.
Mmm.
“And I’d try to get you to break your vows, hey?”
“Mm-hmm. My vows of chastity.”
“Ah, I see.” His fingers hook inside my legs, and he tugs, wanting them off.
I lift my ass in an assist; he slides both my leggings and underwear down my legs, over my feet, and tosses them on the floor.
Now we’re both naked.
Now… Duke is kneeling. Spreading my legs, he puts his mouth where his cock had been nudging me, licking up and down the center of me as if I tasted sweet as pie.
His fingers spread frosting on me. He digs deeper into the pie and spreads the pudding filling on my inner thighs, making a huge mess in the process, but I’m too aroused to care.
His face is a mess.
“Fuck, this tastes good.”
“Yes…” I moan.Yes, it feels so good.
Don’t stop, don’t stop.
He licks and sucks. I prop my legs on his shoulders because it’s hard to hold them in the air; I lean back, resting back on the counter on my elbows, tits covered in pie, pussy covered in pie, Duke Colter licking it all off my naked, hot flesh.
Who in a million years would have thought this would be happening to me? Who in a million years would have thought I’d have the most sought-after football player in the world down on his knees?
Not me, that’s who.
* * *
DUKE
“We have pie,”I announce at the end of dinner.
“No, we don’t.” Posey is shaking her head, giving me that look across the table that says ‘don’t argue with me’ without actually saying ‘don’t argue with me,’ and gives my foot a kick under the table.
When I lean over and glance beneath it, she glares at me again.