The Pool Boy - Nikki Sloane Page 0,52
liked to tease. I dragged my palms down his stomach, up my own, and clasped my hands around my full breast. I flaunted what I could touch, but he couldn’t.
His eyes filled with music, inked in a hand hurried with longing and white-hot desire. And he moaned like I was tormenting him in the best way possible.
There was one way to make sure I got my orgasm before his, and the memory of him watching me in the pool house while I touched myself seared through my mind. I could get myself off even faster with something other than my hand . . .
I leaned over and reached for the drawer.
He sounded more curious than alarmed. “What are you doing?”
I didn’t answer right away, too focused on my task. The rose gold toy I liked best was right on top, and I grabbed it by the handle, then pushed the drawer closed and straightened to sit upright.
“You wanted to see how some of my toys worked.” I held it up for him to see. “I’ll show you.”
His intrigued gaze was glued to the weirdly shaped toy that had an O-shaped mouth protruding at one end, and was sheathed in silicone. I set my fingers of my free hand over my pussy and spread myself wide so my clit was exposed.
“This,” I pressed the button on the handle, making the toy quietly buzz, “uses suction on my clit.” I placed the toy over my damp skin, and as soon as it was sealed, I shuddered. “It feels so nice.”
Inside me, his dick jerked.
The pleasure of the toy was so intense and distracting, it took a long moment to become aware that the man beneath me was moving again. It was so subtle. Just a fraction of an inch to entice me to allow more.
To bend the rule. To seduce me.
But it felt like the power I’d gained was starting to shift away, and I was enjoying it too much to give up yet. I’d barely started.
“Hold still,” I begged. “And don’t come before I do.”
He exhaled loudly, and the muscles of his abs strained when I resumed moving on his cock. “That’s . . . not . . . easy.” He lay perfectly still, other than the way he panted. “You feel so fucking good.”
Everything was buzzing from the toy and the fullness of him inside me, and it wouldn’t be long before an orgasm roared through my body. Trembles shook my legs as I moved faster, and the slap of my body against his grew louder. My hair swayed while I rocked, the ends tickling the bare skin of my back.
“Slow,” he groaned, staring at the rise and fall of my body on his. “Careful.”
But I didn’t want to go slow or be cautious. I was locked inside a pressure cooker filling with steam. My need made me a slave, and I fucked him how my body demanded me to.
His warning was serious and accompanied by a firm hand on my hip. “You’re going to make me come.”
His attempt to get me to stop moving didn’t work. I wrapped my fingers around his wrist and flung his hand off me.
“Shit, Erika. I’m close.”
The edge of desperation in his voice not only excited the darkest part of me—it unlocked it. I slowed my hips, grinding to a halt and gazed down at this gorgeous man who’d told me he thought I had a filthy mind. I was determined to prove him right.
“Maybe you need some motivation,” I whispered.
Tension crept into his body like he sensed whatever I was about to say would be worse than making him lie still.
“If you come before I say you can . . .” I swallowed so hard it was audible. “As punishment, you have to clean it up.”
He stopped breathing. Stopped blinking. “What?”
“If you come inside this pussy without my permission, you’ll use your mouth to take care of your mess.”
An enormous shudder shook his body, as if he’d tried to hold it back and couldn’t.
Because my shocking, filthy decree had turned him on when he hadn’t expected it to. He’d barely finished processing it before I resumed moving. His teeth were clenched and the muscles in his neck corded, but he held still and endured the pleasurable way I heaved my body over his.
But it took its toll. No matter how he tried to concentrate, it was getting to him. Not just the slide of my pussy, but the sights and sounds. I couldn’t