Rate a Date by Monica Murphy Page 0,53

and I can feel her warmth, catch her honeyed scent. My gaze zeros in on her peachy lips and I watch in fascination as she murmurs, “They know about you, but I want to keep you all to myself.”

I swallow hard. My cock reminds me that he’s here, and he’s ready. Speaking of secrets…

I slip my hand beneath her skirt, resting my palm against the hot, bare skin of her hip. She is naked beneath the dress, and I bet if I touched her pussy, my fingers would come away drenched.

Yep. I think I need to test this out.

“You been thinking about me all night?” I ask, my hand doing a slow glide toward the spot between her legs.

Nodding, she tilts her head to the side, her eyes closing when I make contact. Oh fuck, she’s so wet. I stroke her, slow and easy, the juicy sounds filling the quiet air, and I’m hit with the need to bury my face in her.

So I drop to my knees and dive my head under her flirty little skirt, latching my mouth onto her mound. She jerks against me, a sharp oh falling from her lips. I grip her ass, holding her to me as I devour her, and she lifts her leg, bending it at the knee. It hangs there in the air downright awkwardly, and I decide to help her out.

I grab her calf and drape her leg over my shoulder, which only opens her up more to me. She’s pink and hot and so damn wet. Her clit is throbbing against my tongue. I slip a finger inside her and start to pump, latching my lips onto her flesh and sucking noisily.

“Oh shit.” Her entire body goes still, and I know she’s close. I can already tell. She starts rocking her hips, rubbing her pussy against my face. “Right—there.”

The last word chokes out of her, and I suck harder. Fuck her with my fingers. Moan against her flesh. I think it was the moan that did it.

She’s coming. Gasping. Her fingers are twisting my hair, her entire body shuddering with her orgasm, and I keep a firm grip on her ass cheeks so she doesn’t fall onto the floor and take me down with her.

Damn, this girl is on fucking fire. It is my absolute pleasure to make her come like that.

Jesus.

Once she’s come back to herself and we’re both standing, Eleanor fussing with her skirt and sounding like a jittery mess, I go to the sink and wash my hands and face. Can’t walk out of here smelling like pussy, am I right? Though I doubt I’d be the first guy to do so.

“I don’t think any of my friends have as much sex as we do,” she tells me as she washes her hands too, our gazes meeting in the mirror.

Her eyes are sparkling. Her cheeks are rosy and those pretty lips are the color of a ripe peach. I realize quick that I made a mistake in not kissing her sooner and I go to her to rectify it.

The water shuts off as I approach and I grab her hand, pulling her in for a soft kiss. She opens beneath me so easily, I swipe my tongue against hers, the kiss becoming deep. Dirty. She moans. I groan.

She pulls away.

“I have to go back to my friends,” she says breathlessly. “They probably think I’ve died in here.”

“You kind of did,” I tease her, and she smiles.

“I probably shouldn’t, um…grind my body parts on you like that,” she admits. Aw, she’s so cute.

“You mean when you grind your pussy on my face? I don’t mind.” I stroke my chin, pleased with myself.

Even more pleased with her.

Her cheeks turn redder. “It just feels so good, and you haven’t shaved, so the stubble on your face bites into my skin and creates this friction…” She pauses, gaping at me. “You look really, uh, intense right now.”

“You don’t say?” I grab her hand and rest it against my very erect cock. “You keep talking like that and this is what happens.”

She rubs me, the tease. “I should get back out there.”

“Uh huh.”

“They’re waiting for me.” She grips me as best she can through my black dress pants. And she does a pretty good job of it too.

“I’m waiting for you too.” I thrust into her palm.

Eleanor laughs and drops her hand, then grabs her purse, which somehow dropped to the floor during our earlier interlude. “I have an idea.”

“I can’t