The First Taste (Slip of the Tongue #2) - Jessica Hawkins Page 0,19
fingers and sucks herself off them.
Fuck me. The sensation of being suckled is enough to have me grinding into her but knowing she’s not shy makes my balls ache in the best way. I wrap one arm around her waist, lift her, and hold in her place as I fuck up into her. She releases my fingers, drops her head back, and silently cries up at the ceiling. Her tits jiggle in my face. With my other hand, I grab the nape of her neck and bounce her harder onto me.
“Give me a drink,” I command, my voice foreign and rough.
She rights her head, looking down at me a moment. Since my hands are full, she grabs my glass and tilts it over my mouth. She drips a little onto my tongue, but because I’m still fucking her, it trickles, and she laps it off my bottom lip. I try to capture her tongue, but she arches back, allowing me a deeper angle. She drips Glenlivet onto her chest, and it rivers between her breasts and down her stomach. I suck it off her, following its path, as if her skin isn’t just covered in whisky but soaked in it.
“God, Andrew,” she moans. “You can fuck. Just as I expected.”
“Three for three?” I ask, panting.
She answers by swiveling her hips. My stomach tightens, my balls pulsing. I want to come. She hasn’t yet, but I need my hands to get her there, and I don’t want to put her down. I like holding her up, stealing any control she might try to keep.
“Touch yourself. Help me get you off.”
She wraps one arm around my neck and puts a hand between us to circle her clit. “Like that?” she asks, batting her lashes at me.
“Just like that, you perfect tease.” A growl rises in my chest as every muscle in my body tenses. “Come on, baby. I need to feel you grabbing my cock. I won’t finish until you do.”
She goes at herself harder, using her own juices to lube herself. Though the sight of her getting off with her own hand is something I’ll be picturing for a long time to come, I raise my eyes. I need to see her face. By the way she’s squeezing her eyes shut and gasping up at the ceiling, I can tell she’s close. But she isn’t there, not yet.
“Amelia. Look at me.”
She blinks a few times. Her skin is flushed, her blue eyes murky with desire as they meet mine.
“Good girl.” I want to watch her fall apart. Nothing will push me over the edge faster. “You wanted to fuck me in your office, didn’t you?” I provoke her. “Even though I was just the plumber.”
She bites her lip. “No.”
“Don’t lie. Wanted me to take you up against the wall. Fuck you like I was the boss, not you. Punish you for how you treated me.”
“And-rew,” she implores, using the same tone that nearly undid me earlier while digging her fingernails into my back.
The pinch of pain spurs me toward the finish line. “You’re so fucking sexy when you’re close. I knew you’d be.”
Her eyes roll back in her head and she moans, “I’m coming. Oh, God, Jesus, Andrew—fuck me.”
I drop her ass onto the counter, take her hips in a firm grip, and finally let go. I pound into her, fucking with a singular need to get off, knowing she’s taken care of. She clenches around me over and over. Her hands find their way into my hair and pull. I growl and thrust and take until it feels like I’m going to explode on the spot. When I finally do, it’s pure relief, like I’ve been working toward this all night, and nothing else would satisfy me. I stare up at the ceiling as I finish, my chest heaving. Her hands are still in my hair. I shut my eyes and continue milking myself with her sweet pussy until I’ve calmed. Sweat trickles down my temple. Somehow, I’m still wearing my t-shirt, and it sticks to my skin. I blow out a breath and finally look back at her.
Her face is red, her mascara smeared under one eye. There’s a darkening spot on her chest from where I sucked whisky off. Her hair is the only thing that’s still practically untouched, and I make a note to mess it up good next time.
With a shudder, she starts to tremble.
“Shit,” I murmur, surprised at how breathless I am. For fuck’s sake,