A Crown Of Smoke And Ash - Sloane Murphy Page 0,53

where Creek is waiting, naked, on the bed.

"Well, guess we had the same thought, huh?" he drawls, biting his lower lip as I make my way to him, one slow step at a time.

"I guess we did. Except, I was hoping you'd show up in the shower," I pout, and he gives me a devilish grin.

"Someone had to be the responsible one and wait for room service," his voice gravelly with lust, his cock hard and proud, waiting for me.

The sight of him makes me wetter than I already am. So eager to feel him on me, in me. All over me.

"Come here, beautiful, let's see who comes first, us or room service.”

With a chuckle, I take the last three steps I need to reach him, and straddle his thighs as he sits sprawled on the bed.

"You're so beautiful like this, naked and wanting," he tells me, his hands sliding from my thighs to my waist and up the sides of my ribs before he pulls me to him, and runs his tongue around one nipple, then the other.

"Hmm, delicious," he rasps, and I moan along with him at the feel of his warm, wet mouth doing dirty things to me.

Seating myself on his cock, we both groan as I take him inside of me to the hilt. We take a breath, giving me a moment to adjust to his size, him closing his eyes and biting his lip.

"It's always a struggle not to come like a horny fifteen-year-old every time your pussy swallows me up," he confesses, his voice filled with lust.

"Fuck me, Creek, please, I don't want to lose."

With a smirk firmly planted on his lips, and his green eyes filled with mischief, Creek grabs onto my waist and pushes me off his cock before pulling me back down, hard and fast, his grunt a confession, his flaring nostrils a promise to control himself. This man would never come before me, it just wouldn't happen.

His free hand reaches up to cup the back of my head, pulling me down for a hard, searing kiss. One that invades and explores the depths of my mouth. His tongue probing at the same rhythm as his cock. Pulsing, pushing, hard muscles tensing with his need to come.

"Play with your clit, beautiful, make yourself come and let me watch you explode," he murmurs, his fingers digging at my waist all the while thrusting harder and deeper inside me.

I'm panting as though running a marathon, and maybe I am. A marathon to climax.

One hand clutching his shoulder, I let the other one slide down to my clit and rub hard, tight circles as our foreheads lie one against the other, Creek watching my fingers.

"Do it beautiful, come for me," he orders, and my will to hold out disintegrates with his command.

I throw my head back, fingers still circling my clit, Creek accelerating his thrusts, and I cry out to the gods above just as I feel his orgasm explode inside of me, his mouth latched onto my nipple and sucking like his life depends on It.

Panting with our chests heaving for every breath, we hear the knock on the door, and both laugh.

"I guess we won," he says, slapping my ass before making me stand. His semen running down my thighs a reminder that he's mine. That I'm marked as his.

After we eat, he uncovers the last of the plates, and brings them to the bed where we devour our post-sex dinner.

"Close your eyes," he orders as he makes his way to the bed, "lie down and do not peek," he chuckles knowing I’ll probably peek anyway.

"What are you doing?" I ask, anticipation making me impatient.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, patience, beautiful. I promise you'll like it," he says.

I feel suddenly cold on my navel, like he's put something there, but I can't quite figure it out.

"A strawberry, so I can mix your taste with its sweetness," he whispers, his tongue circling the strawberry before it disappears, into his mouth presumably. The next thing I know, he is covering my body with his, our towels pulled away, our bodies naked once more, and his mouth lightly gliding along mine.

No, not his mouth, the strawberry.

I let my tongue peek out and just as I do, the sweet nectar of the berry spills all over my mouth, my tongue, my chin. With my eyes closed, the sweet smell, and the cold juices are an aphrodisiac, but when Creek's tongue laps me up like I'm the strawberry, I