whimper as he runs his teeth across my earlobe. “Do you know what else I’ve been wondering?”
I’m so lost in the touch of his lips, I almost miss the fact he asked me a question. Feeling bold and sassy, I reply, “What color my panties are?”
Mack pauses, his eyes meet mine. There’s humor mixed with his desire. “Well, that too,” he replies, his lips ticking upward a hair. “Actually, I was wondering if you taste as good as I remember.”
Suddenly, those eyes I was just staring into are gone. He moves down my body, crouching on the floorboard at my feet. He palms my calves and slowly runs his hands upward. I’m pretty sure I’m not breathing as I watch him work his way up my legs, my dress moving up as he goes.
When he reaches my thighs, his eyes meet mine once more. There’s a question there, as if he’s seeking permission to go any farther. If I were to tell him no, he’d release me and never touch me again, but why in the hell would I do that? Why, when he makes me feel so fucking good.
So, I give him a slight nod, a confirmation. I lift my butt as he pushes my dress up and around my hips. Mack tsks as his hands wrap around my thighs and gently push outward. “I was going to say black, Lean, but this surprises me.” His eyes meet mine again. “And pleases me too.”
Back when I was younger, I swore the only lingerie worth having was black lace. Turns out, the older I get, the more I like the thought of changing it up every now and again. Like tonight. Tonight, I chose a light pink thong with tiny white stitching around the edges. It matches the strapless bra I’m wearing too.
“I thought of you when I saw it,” I say, just as he rubs his thumb over the tiny lace triangle and makes me gasp.
“Yeah? How so?” he asks, continuing to slightly touch the delicate material with the pad of his thumb.
“It was different. Than before.” I can’t even form sentences when he does that.
“Hmmm,” he murmurs, leaning forward just a bit to get a closer look. “Do you know what it reminds me of?” Barely able to breathe, I just shake my head in response. His eyes darken even further as he says, “This color reminds me of your pussy. Soft and pink and so fucking perfect.”
And then his mouth quits talking and moves in another way. He licks across my clit, the coarseness of the material rubbing against me and sending shock waves of lust through my blood. He moves the little swatch of panties to the side, the cool air tickling my exposed clit. Mack slides his fingers along my wet skin. When he grazes across my clit, I almost come up off the seat, but he holds me down.
With his mouth.
His lips latch on to me, his tongue tasting and teasing with each stroke. Just when I think I can’t take any more, he slips first one and then a second finger inside my body. I can already feel my muscles contracting around him as he licks at my bundle of nerves. His fingers pump in and out, first a slow, seductive speed, and then as his mouth quickens the pace, so do his fingers. They curl upward, sweeping across my G-spot and making me moan.
“Come for me, Lena. Now,” he demands, his lips sucking hard on my clit and sending me flying into the blinding white light of my release.
My hands grip his head as I ride his face, my orgasm washing through me fast and furious. When he finally slows his mouth, I’m able to breathe for the first time in what feels like long minutes. His fingers slide out, my body missing the fullness they created. Our eyes meet under my heavily lidded ones and all he can do is smile.
Cocky bastard.
“I’ve been wanting to do that all night,” he says, right before moving his fingers to his mouth and sucking.
I whimper. I want more. I want him.
Before I can ask him to strip down and give it to me in the back of this limo, the vehicle starts to slow before it turns. Mack glances out the dark window and says, “We’re home.”
I don’t bring attention to the fact it’s not my home. I’m too busy trying to right my panties and dress so when I walk into the house,