Boys Next Door. Sommer Marsden

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СКАЧАТЬ you make me wetter?’ My voice had dropped to a breathy whisper.

      He lowered his face, jaw tight and well shaped, dark eyes flashing. He had an almost feline quality to his bone structure and it added to the sexy-as-hell appearance of him preparing to set his lips to my pussy.

      ‘I guarantee it.’

      Deke dropped to his knees on the floor and forced my thighs wide. His big hands clamped down on the insides of my knees, anchoring me to the sofa in exactly the position he desired. He was a little bit teasing, a little bit rough and a whole lot decisive. The overall effect was a man who had me on the verge of begging. Begging him to skip the foreplay and fuck me again. Fuck me the way he had in the elevator.

      Good and fast and thorough.

      All thoughts of begging him to skip this part fled my mind when he drew his tongue along the seam of my sex in the laziest lick I had ever witnessed. He gathered my moisture on his tongue, spread it up and over my slit and then nibbled my clit like he had all the time in the world.

      My breath stopped. Frustration and rabid arousal warred for dominance in my chest. I grabbed his hair and tried to move him a bit faster. He shook his head, laughed softly and said, ‘Unh-unh, Farrell, no rushing me. I like to take my time.’

      With that he slid his tongue back to my clitoris and pushed his thumb into my weeping cunt. The pressure and friction and, fuck yes, when he sucked, the feel of him drawing on my swollen nub was overwhelming. I made small noises born of sweet frustration.

      When he stopped for a moment and blew on my wet labia, I was pretty sure I’d die.

      ‘Please don’t torture me,’ I babbled. ‘I’m new here. Be nice! Don’t stress me out …’ But I dissolved in giggles at my own bargaining.

      Deke was going to do it his way no matter what I said. I could tell that already. And I loved it.

      ‘Oh, I’ll be nice to you. But I think our first encounter, as intense and rowdy as it was, was way too fast. I want this one to last. We have wine and food. Good things to eat …’ He latched his entire mouth, the wet suede feel of it maddening, over my pussy and sucked.

      I sobbed with the goodness of it all, head thrown back to face my new ceiling complete with exposed beams. I think I said ‘please’ but don’t quote me on that.

      His thumb was replaced by his thick fingers and he fucked me in slow even strokes before driving deep and nudging my G-spot. Deke turned his hand just so, the pressure in my cunt all-consuming. He ground his palm to my tender clit and just … moved. As he moved, my orgasm slid closer to me. When he licked a wet trail from my mound to my belly button, the first tentative spasm shook me.

      ‘Come on now, give me a big one,’ he murmured, lips on my skin. Small soft kisses dropped along my sides, over my sternum, along the side swell of my breast. His hand drove into me and against me so hard I heard the wet sounds of my body’s acceptance and I realised my hips were slamming up to meet his thrusts. I was going to come.

      From a hand job.

      I never came from hand jobs.

      His teeth, white and, yes, devilish, clamped down on my nipple and he tugged. Drawing out the rosy flesh so I hissed, but then he soothed it with his tongue and I began to literally pant.

      My pussy had grown tight around his fingers and he knew it because he whispered to me. Even as he kissed me with syrupy slowness along my collarbone before torturing my other nipple to a blissful peak. ‘Come on. You know you want to give it to me. Come for me, pretty girl. Be a good girl and give it to me.’

      So dirty – so staggeringly forward. And somehow … wrong but blissfully so. His amused tone and his good girls and his sharp grin and Christ, those kisses, so gentle they felt almost ghostly. I came. My toes curled and I was babbling, but too far gone to feel stupid.

      I gave myself over to the hugeness of the release and when my voice started to give, he covered my mouth with his and kissed me.

      I could taste wine and my own juices on his sweet, warm lips.

      I opened my legs for him, wrapping them around his waist with wanton impatience. ‘Condom? Condom, condom.’ I was chanting it even as I grappled with the button fly of his jeans.

      Somewhere between our elevator tryst and his visit to me, he’d taken a shower and changed his clothes. The length of his neck smelled of soap and his hair was still a little damp when I thrust my hands in it and gripped. I kissed him hard, slamming my hips up to bump against his erect cock.

      ‘God, fuck, yes, I have a condom. But you have to …’ He chuckled with great amusement and I blushed. ‘Let me go for me to get it.’

      ‘Fine, be that way,’ I teased.

      I let him go and he stood. All six-foot-four of him. He pulled his plaid button down over his head to save time and I sat up to run my finger along the firm bulges of his abdominals. ‘Workout?’ I asked.

      He shook his head. ‘You’d be surprised how much a deer weighs. Or a pig. Or a turkey. The workout is built into the job.’

      He dropped his jeans and this time I could see that it was boxer briefs he sported. Maroon with a blue waistband to be exact. And his cock was pressing belligerently at the seam. I murmured appreciatively, touching him through the soft cotton.

      ‘Careful. You’re killing me, here.’

      I yanked him by the waistband, drawing him to me. Leaving the shorts in place I ran the tips of my fingers along the line of his hard on. He studied me, his almost black hair falling over his forehead. He was beautiful in an almost evil way. In a movie, Deke would play the guy you just aren’t sure about. Good guy or bad guy? You just wouldn’t know until the end. And maybe not even then.

      But as far as I could tell, the looks were the only place he seemed anything but obviously perfect. Which was frightening.

      I yanked his shorts down and pressed my face to his cock. My lips, my nose, breathing in the warm cotton-scented smell of him.

      ‘Jesus, Farrell,’ he laughed. But he stroked the crown of my head like I was fragile. As if I might disappear should he touch me too hard.

      ‘Thanks for the hearty welcome to town,’ I whispered, looking up at him. Trying to read those supremely dark eyes. I kept my gaze on him as I took the tip of his cock into my mouth and gave it the most gentlest of sucks.

      His eyes drifted shut briefly before he forced them open, his hands barely touching my hair. It had fallen in a chaotic tangle around my face and I left it be. He seemed to like touching it and smoothing it and I liked the feel of it, too.

      I sucked again, pushing my lips down along his shaft until I had the bulk of him in my mouth. Then I slid my tongue along the silken flesh and listened to his breathing change. The sound of a man getting a blow job – a good one that is weakening his knees and speeding up his heart – is a marvel.

      It is one of my most favourite sounds.

      And I liked Deke. God, I liked him way too much. Our odd resonance from the get-go sort of terrified me – if I thought about it. So I wouldn’t.

      I forced myself СКАЧАТЬ