his lips over my clit, he sucked. My hand shot out and tangled in his hair. He snarled his approval as he went to town, letting me feel his teeth in between generous licking and suckling.
I’d never understood the appeal of riding a guy’s face before, but I could learn to channel my inner cowgirl with how he worked me over.
He stopped.
With a whine, I glanced down at him.
He was resting his head on my still jeans-clad inner thigh, his expression hidden, his shoulders shaking. Was he—
“Cowgirl?” he asked in a strangled voice.
Dammit! I fixed up the holes in my mental wall.
He was still laughing quietly when he put his mouth on me again.
And so it went, on and off, on and off, in excruciating sensual torture until I was so high-strung with desperate, unfulfilled desire, it was a miracle I didn’t simply snap like an overdrawn rope.
“Pleeeeeeeease,” I wheezed, sweat slicking my skin.
“It’s up to you, love,” was his pragmatic, unyielding answer. “You know you can do it.”
“I hate you,” I murmured as I clenched my hand in his hair and pulled him closer.
A husky laugh against my intimate flesh. “No, you don’t.”
Ugh.
Checking the wall in frustration, a cursory, instinctive pat-down of my defenses, I let myself fall into that place of mounting arousal, with the single-minded focus of getting the fuck off.
If this wall fell down again, I would commit a bloodbath.
“There now,” Azazel purred against my mound as I writhed underneath his skillful tongue. “You’re doing great.”
God, I needed relief as bad as a junkie did their next fix.
He kept nipping and lapping at me, and I gasped—he hadn’t caught that thought!
Yessss. The wall held. It held, it held, it held—
He grazed my clit with his teeth and sucked.
I came with a scream. The orgasm razed me down to my foundations, a violent force of long-awaited pleasure. So sweet, so torturous, so charged that it veered into pain—which only hurled me further into bliss. Convulsions rattled my body, and I would have crumpled down the ladder had he not held my hips in place.
Spots of light danced in my vision, and I barely noticed as he turned me around, one arm slung around my waist and cushioning me against the ladder. His lips on my neck, his chest pressing into my back. He’d climbed up, was now right behind me, caging me in against the ladder.
“You’re not quite boneless yet,” he murmured into my ear. “Let me remedy that.”
“I think I’m boneless enough.” My voice was hoarse. “I’m practically a chicken nugget.”
“If you can still speak, I haven’t done my job.”
His free hand slid down to my jeans, popped open the button. The zipper followed suit. I shivered under the caress of his mouth on my neck as he grabbed the waistband and pulled both jeans and panties down to my knees in one skilled move. The raw carnality of that act only rekindled my lust, and despite my semi-boneless state, I managed to push my hips back—right up to the hard length of his own arousal, still trapped behind his pants.
Biting my lip, I rubbed against it. The hiss it elicited from him was the sweetest reward.
He drew back a little, and I felt his hand between us. A few quick, efficient moves, and then he pressed against me again, this time skin to skin at our hips. I gasped at the feel of his cock against my butt, fresh desire pooling in my core.
The fingers of his free hand slid between my thighs—slick with my arousal—right up to my entrance, dipped inside me. I moaned and let my head fall back against his shoulder. He pumped in and out for a few heartbeats, his breath hot on my jaw, before he withdrew his hand. Grasping his cock, he positioned it between my thighs, right where my legs met my butt, and spread me as much as possible with the jeans still tangled around my knees.
Our position and the angle made it an especially tight fit...and all the more damnably erotic as he pushed forward. I tilted my hips to guide him a little, groaned as he slid home.
Sweet mercy. I was a second away from coming already. If he touched my clit now...I’d explode.
The arm cushioning my front moved up, his hand shoving down my tank top and bra to expose my breast. He pulled his hips back and thrust forward again at the same time as he squeezed my breast, thumb flicking my nipple.