All innocence, he asked, “Here, love?” just before his stiffened tongue speared inside my pu**y.
I stamped the tops of my feet with frustration. “You know what I mean!”
“Ah yes, this.” He gave me another frustrating/blissful thrust of his tongue.
Half out of my head, I whimpered. “Please lick my cl*t while you touch my ass.”
Tone wry, he said, “Better still, then.”
In a dim part of my brain, I comprehended that my ruthless hit man was playing with me, enjoying himself ! And I loved it.
He took my cl*t between his lips and drew wetly.
“Ah, God, ah, God . . .”
The pad of his thumb found my center—
I exploded, startling myself with my sharp scream. “Sevastyan!”
The pressure between my cheeks and around my throbbing cl*t wrung wave after wave from me as he suckled and played. . . .
Once he’d coaxed every last ounce of my release, he stood behind me, rasping, “Greedy girl. You came without permission? Tomorrow I’ll punish you for that. Tonight you get a pass because you’ve pleased me so well.”
Between breaths, I asked, “Now will you f**k me?”
“You can’t tonight.” He was stroking himself? “Besides, seeing you like this . . . I won’t last long.”
“Really?”
“If I donned a condom right now, I’d be sure to come in it.”
Even in the midst of this, I couldn’t choke back a laugh. Maddening, fascinating man!
I rested on my forehead, tucking my head under to watch him. Those tattoos on his arms rippled over his muscles as he worked his thick length.
He bit out, “If you knew what I was imagining right now, beautiful . . .”
My toes curled from his wicked tone, from his wickeder eyes.
“Do you want my cum to mark you?” He squeezed his fist even tighter, as if to hold back a flood of it.
In answer, I arched my back down, spreading myself wide—
He loosed an overpowered bellow. An instant later, a ribbon of heat landed across my ass. Hips working, he f**ked his fist, striping my flesh with semen.
Each heavy lash was as scalding as the leather he’d used to whip me. He yelled out his pleasure over and over . . . until finally spent.
Breaths heaving, he said, “Look at the sight of my woman.”
My face flushed. I could only imagine what I looked like—spread, vulnerable, my reddened bottom coated.
“I’m committing this to memory.”
Heartbeats passed; his gaze lingered until I was squirming. “Sevastyan . . .”
Then we were down in the water again, and he was washing me off, lavishing kisses and praise—which I lapped up, a kitten to cream.
He rose, toweled off, then scooped me from the water, lifting me as if I weighed nothing.