The First Taste (Slip of the Tongue #2) - Jessica Hawkins Page 0,52
asks, “Like that?”
I hear the smile in his voice and nod.
He uncovers my eyes and mouth to gently hold my throat. Skating his other hand down my stomach, he slips his fingers over my clit and moves them in small, wet circles.
“Tell me what you want,” he says, his breath hot against my cheek.
My desperation for release reaches a new level. “You.”
“Tell me what you need.”
“To come.”
He begins to move inside me as fast as the angle will allow. What he lacks in speed, he makes up for in depth, in his hands loving my clit. I have the urge to spread my legs, but my underwear traps my thighs. My knees tremble, sending a quiver up my entire body. His hand on my throat should scare me; it gives him complete control. Instead, it possesses me, makes me feel owned and secure—as close to loved as I think I’m capable of feeling.
“I can’t hold back anymore.” He releases me completely and pushes me down by my upper back, mashing my breasts against the cool wood. For a few desk-rattling minutes, he holds my hips and fucks me like I’ve offended him.
“I could come already,” he grates out. “What do you need?”
“Anything,” I say, close but not quite there. “Pull my hair. Slap my ass. Anything.”
He closes his front over my back, covers my mouth again, and growls in my ear, “You want to go to the edge?”
I open my mouth to beg for it, but he shoves his finger in my mouth. “Suck.” I close my lips around him, and when he says more, harder, I comply. He removes his finger and saliva dribbles down my chin. Just as I’ve registered his hand between the crack of my ass, he’s rimming my tight bud with a slippery fingertip.
“Andrew—”
He pushes inside, and I gasp. The intrusion shocks and pinches. I break out in goose bumps, shuddering as he hammers my pussy and gently probes my asshole.
Chimes peal through the room, breaking my concentration. I do my best to block out the ring of my cell phone so I don’t lose my mounting orgasm. As soon as the ringing stops, it starts again, and this time Andrew’s cell goes off too.
“Answer it,” he says.
“I can’t,” I breathe.
He slides my purse toward us. One-handedly, he extracts my phone and holds it out, slowing his thrusts considerably without stopping. “Say hello.”
I grasp at the cell phone and clumsily answer the call from Sadie. “Hello.”
“It’s Nathan.”
“Nathan?” I can barely form a thought other than I’m full. Of Andrew. So full.
“Amelia?”
“This is Amelia.”
He pauses. “Where the hell are you guys? They’re about to do your category.”
Andrew wiggles his finger inside me, and I nearly bite off my bottom lip to keep quiet. Being on the phone while Andrew controls my orgasm has the opposite effect I thought it would. Instead of a distraction, it acts as a catalyst, and my climax throbs and pulses close to the surface.
“We’re coming,” I say quickly. “Ten minutes.”
“You don’t have ten minutes. Sadie wants to know where you are. I grabbed her phone before she could call.”
“Five minutes,” I promise and toss the phone aside.
Andrew reaches out, ends the call, and wraps my hair in a tight ponytail. He fucks me hard, pulling me onto him with each thrust until I crescendo like a song and collapse. He surrenders seconds later, digging a hand into my shoulder and cursing as he comes.
My heart beats so hard, the desk pulsates. I don’t know how I could possibly move again tonight, much less in the next five minutes, but Andrew has other ideas. He massages my shoulders for a couple seconds and starts urging me up. “Come on. We have to go.”
“I can’t.”
“You have to. You can’t miss the announcement.”
“Your finger is in my ass.”
He chuckles. “I should’ve warned you—I’m an ass man.”
“I never would’ve guessed,” I respond wryly.
“You came, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“And it was good?”
I shrug. “As far as orgasms go—”
He stops me with a short slap on the ass. “Don’t start.”
I smile. “It was earth shattering. But you can remove it now.”
He slides his finger and cock out at the same time, and I can only hope the void he leaves won’t last more than a few minutes. Before I can right myself, Andrew tugs my thong to my feet. “I’m taking this.”
“I knew it—”
“No,” he says, lifting each of my legs by the ankle to strip the underwear off. “You accused me of a crime I didn’t commit, so