CHAPTER ELEVEN
LACEY
He takes me around the waist, pulling me into his hardness.
I could push him away.
I don’t.
“I bet you’re wet right now,” Payton whispers, his lips close to mine. “I bet my cock would run right in.”
Instead of speaking, I release a caught moan deep from the bottom of my throat. “And if I am?”
I watch for his response with wide eyes, my body electric. I breathe in, holding it while I wait.
I go to speak again, unable to take the anticipation, but he silences me with his mouth, bringing his lips hard upon my own until I falter, growing limp at his touch.
Our tongues meet, mine hesitant at first as he seeks me out. He reaches up and threads his fingers through my hair, pulling me deeper into the kiss, devouring me from the outset.
My heart beats hard against his chest, his cock twitching between us.
When he finally pulls away, I gasp for air.
He stills holds onto my hair, gently tugging so my head tilts back and my neck is exposed.
In a second his lips are upon it, a hot trail of heated kisses following up to my earlobe, teased by the arrow-like tip of his tongue.
I lick my lower lip, my chest lifting and falling against this sudden onslaught, the need welling up strong inside me. I want his mouth everywhere—on my breasts, my nipples, my… sex.
My heart’s hammering so hard I’m worried it’s going to beat right out of my chest.
I’ve never wanted anything this bad.
His other hand reaches up, playing with my lips, slipping inside my mouth like a tiny cock. I suck it while he watches.
I inhale when he draws it away.
“Do you know what I want?” he purrs.
I don’t reply. I can’t, I’m breathing so hard.
“I want to lick every last inch of your body with my tongue. I want to drive it inside that sweet little pussy of yours and take away your breath. I want you to think you’re having a fucking heart attack when you come. Do you hear me?”
I’m not used to be spoken to in this way, this dirty talk. I’m surprised it’s turning me on so much.
“Yes,” I pant.
Payton slides his hand over my stomach before it disappears down the front of my panties. A shock runs through me as his fingers find my clit.
My face distorts when he applies pressure, his tawny eyes watching me all the while. I can’t believe this is happening. I can’t believe his hand is between my legs right now, touching me… there… where no other hand has gone before.
“Would you rather I replace it with my mouth?” he purrs.
Yes. Yes, yes, yes, yes, my head screams, but I can’t form the words.
I lift my lips to his. We kiss, light at first and then with greater urgency, his tongue deep in my mouth. I tilt my hips against his hand, my entire body beating with nervous excitement.
Our tongues flutter against one another, his free hand moving into the thick of my hair to pull away the tie. It unspools like silk around his fingers.
And I feel safe. I feel completely protected here against him, cocooned away from the world by his body—hard and warm.
His fingers work against the slick seam of my pussy. My eyes squeeze shut as I clamp my thighs around his wrist and snap my hips upwards, suddenly freezing as my entire body contracts on the brink of orgasm.
It’s right at that pivotal moment he removes his hand.
“What are you—” But my words are silenced as I’m driven onto the bed, my shoes, jeans, and panties stripped away by his hands.
He removes his own, pulling his shirt free, his giant cock bobbing before him majestically while I remove my top and bra, blushing in the semi-darkness.
He kneels, warm, heavy hands parting my thighs, and places his mouth upon me.
The sensation of his tongue exploring the hot space of my pussy is otherworldly. He uses the flat of his tongue against my clit, then the tip, alternating until I’m bucking helplessly, my fingers woven through his inky hair, my legs scissoring open and shut against his head.
I pant like a wild animal, grunting and mewing and completely out of control, a junkie without her fix.
I’m close, way too close, but I want him—all of him.
I don’t care if this is Mr. Right in this moment, that we’re from two worlds.
All I want is his cock.
And I want it now.
I lift his head up, his eyes glassy with arousal.
“I want you inside me,” I tell him.
His brow furrows. “Are you sure?”
I nod.
He reaches to his jeans on the floor and removes a foil packet from his wallet, sheathing his enormous cock before me.
One hand flat on the mattress beside my head, he lowers himself over me, a hand around his cock to guide it against the slippery seam between my legs.
I place one hand on his shoulder, let the other stroke his back from the nape of his neck to the bottom of his spine.
“Are you ready?” he asks.
I am.
“Yes,” I whisper.
He drives forward, a fleeting pinch as he plunges inside me, deep into the heated clutch of my pussy.
I moan, my hands locking around his neck as he draws away, his breath hot against my face as he slides forward into the tight compression once more.
I’m so wet he enters me easily, the flare of pain subsiding and replaced by a new and profound pleasure I had no idea existed until this moment. His thick cock fills me out completely, his hot flesh against mine maddeningly wonderful.
I urge him on.
“You’re so fucking tight,” he moans, his lips against my ear.
All I can do is whisper his name in response, over and over as if a chant, a prayer.
“Yes,” I tell him, “yes,” a breathy, hollow sound that’s not my voice at all.
My core tightens. Payton builds into a rhythm.
I move against him, my hips gyrating, sucking his member in.
I press my eyes tight together to stave off the impending orgasm. I don’t want this to end—not now, not ever.
The mattress flexes below us, the springs registering an audible protest, but it’s lost to the waves of sensation threatening to overwhelm me.
Payton pounds away with everything he has, my mouth caught open, struggling to pull in breath.
I flail, his cock stirring alien sensation inside me.
It’s when I feel his hand enclose my breast, the pad of his thumb glazing over my nipple, that the rope that was tethering me to earth snaps for good.
I half-shout half-scream, clawing my fingers into Payton’s back as I explode from the inside out.
My head floats. I’m starved of oxygen, but still my pussy pulses and contracts around Payton’s driving cock, a strange ringing sound filling my ears as a second climax rolls over the first and sends me to near unconsciousness.
I’m still shuddering when Payton stiffens, groaning as he finds his own release deep in the most private confines of my body.
He slumps sideways still inside me, pulling into his chest as I continue to jerk from the aftershocks.
We kiss again, tender and soft now in the afterglow of it.
A new bout of lightheadedness strikes me. It feels like I’m going to pass out.
I had no idea it would be this… satisfying.
“Well,” Payton asks, still breathing hard, “how was it?”
“It was,” I search for the right word, “miraculous.”
Payton laughs against my cheek. “That’s quite a compliment coming from the Miracle herself.”
“Twelve shots of grade-A tap water is hardly a miracle.”
He sits up. “Say what now?”
I let my finger run down the center of his chest. “You don’t really think I could do all those shots of vodka and actually leave that bar standing, do you? Look at me. I’m lucky if I could handle two or three before keeling over.”
He’s shaking his head in amazement. “Hang on. You’re saying you hustled me in the bar that night? How?”
“My secret,” I shrug.
He reaches down and finds my clit, applying light pressure.
I moan, lost again.
“Tell me or I’m going to make you come all damn night.”
I’m way too sensitive right now. Another orgasm would kill me. I take hold of his wrist. “Fine, fine. When I said I was going to the bathroom that night I slipped into the back and had a girl talk with your buddy the bartender.”
He’s still shaking his head. “The Britney clone? You slippery motherfu—”
I place a finger on his lips.
“How did you pay her?” he mumbles.
I smile. “To fill my shots with water and yours with the strongest vodka she had? Absolutely nothing.”
I release my finger. “But I saw…”
“Her pour them? At the back of the bar?”
I register the surprise on his face. It’s almost as good as an orgasm—almost.
Poor guy. He’s still confused. “But why did she do it?”
I sit up on an elbow. “I said you needed to be taught a lesson, told her about how you tried to hit on me in your birthday suit on day one. Once I told her that, she was all in.”
Payton throws a hand up. “I cannot fucking believe this. I just slept with Cruella de Vil. First cheating at the Tower, then the drink-off… What next? A quarter-mile drag race?”
I raise an eyebrow, looking down at my still-flushed nipples. “Do I look like Dom Toretto to you?”
He takes me around the waist, rolling me under him, his hand planted beside my head and his cock see-sawing between us once again hard. “No, you look like you need to be taught a lesson.”
“And what are you going to do?” I whimper.
His eyes glean with wicked prospect. “I’m going to fuck that naughty streak right out of you.”