Sparrow

His eyes dropped back to my white panties, and he tugged them down to my knees, kissing the spot just above my slit gently. He then parted me carefully with both thumbs, leaning forward and inhaling me with his eyes shut. It was slightly embarrassing...but incredibly arousing.

My eyes met his as my hand brushed through his hair, so implausibly soft in comparison to the tough man it belonged to. I stepped out of the panties. “I know,” I exhaled. “I don’t want you to stop what you’re doing.”

He pressed his mouth to my center. Darting his tongue out, he explored me, every bit of me, building anticipation. I felt wetness pool inside me and leaned onto the dresser behind me, trying to stay upright. It was only then that his mouth sought—and found—my bundle of sensitive nerves and sucked on it, long and hard, building and releasing pressure like he was pumping a delicious drug into me.

I moaned and fisted his hair, tugging, urging him to continue. Everything tingled. My toes curled inside the high heels. I rolled my hips forward, wiggling out of his strong arms around my waist and wanting, searching, aching for more.

Troy sucked on my clit and pulled it between his teeth, applying more pressure. “Stand still,” he commanded, his hands roaming my body.

Stomach, hips, inner thighs…

“God, I missed eating *,” he sighed into me. “And you’re so delicious and tight.”

I blushed, smiling to myself. At least he didn’t do this to everyone. That made me feel stupidly special.

Troy ate me alive, making happy noises throughout. Little grunts and moans that told me he was enjoying this no less than I was. It was probably the first time I ever saw him happy, licking the length of me, sucking on my sensitive part and pumping his tongue in and out of me. He draped one of my thighs over his shoulder, digging his head deeper between my legs, and I threw my head back and cried out his name.

He stopped sucking and slid his tongue into me, in and out, in and out. My vision clouded, my body shook all over. Even though the sensation was insane, it also felt like he was playing with my body and refusing to take it over the edge. He was teasing me, but every time I got closer to tipping over, an orgasm threatening to tear me from the inside out, he slowed down. On purpose.

“Please,” I panted, not really sure what I was asking.

“Please, what?” he urged.

That was a good question. I could see the gates of heaven open up, but Troy wouldn’t let me walk through.

Unable to form a coherent sentence, I kept on pulling his hair almost violently. When he picked up the pace pumping his tongue into me, and I literally saw stars. My knees finally gave in and I buckled, collapsing down on him. He hit the beige carpet with a thud.

“That’s better.” Troy put his hands on my waist to root me into place. “Ride my face, Red. Now…you were saying?”

“Make me come.” I panted harder, shamelessly grinding myself against his mouth. God, I would never be able to look at him again after knowing his tongue was buried so deep inside me.

He smiled into me—I actually felt it, shuddering violently against his lips—and went slower, licking more thoroughly and gently, while shoving one hand back into my bra, pinching my nipple hard. The bastard.

“I hate you.” I let out a grunt, meaning to rise and stand up from this delicious torture, but he jerked me back into his face, laughing into my core. His laugh vibrated inside my body. He was getting off on my frustration.

“Let me go,” I hissed.

“Say the magic word,” he answered, amused.

“Asshole.” I threw my head back, both turned on and exasperated. I was still riding his face, and had a feeling I would be, for hours, if I didn’t put a stop to it.

Holy Jesus. Riding his face? My mind was filthy around this man, and I had absolutely zero filters when it came down to what I wanted him to do to me.

“That’s not the magic word. Beg me…” He dragged his tongue along my slit from top to bottom. “And I’ll let you come.”

“Keep dreaming,” I moaned.

His sucking became more intense, and he bit on my throbbing clit. My fingers dug into his skin.

“Beg,” he repeated. “Say what you want to say.”

It was tempting, but I couldn’t let go of my ego, of my sliver of self-control around him. We were not on the same team. Just because he indulged me tonight, didn’t mean he’d acknowledge my existence tomorrow morning.

“No,” I answered again.

He laughed long and hard, drunk on my resistance, loving that I hated his game. He spread my legs so I was wide open in front of him, took my clit in his mouth again and rubbed my entrance with his thumb in delicious up and down movements.

This time I knew I was really on the edge. All I needed were a few more strokes. I didn’t know what was going to happen with Troy, but I knew it would be worth more than the begging. It was magic. It was giving your body to someone else, feeling every single one of your muscles tighten deliciously, feeling a swell of pleasure about to overtake you like a tsunami…

“Beg,” he demanded one more time, and I knew it’d be the last.

“No.”

His wet lips left my skin as he dragged his body up so he could kiss my lips, inserting his tongue into my mouth and swirling it teasingly, forcing me to taste myself.

“This was fun.” His throaty voice tickled me, and I felt shattered. I wanted to come so badly. “Now let’s see how long you can manage without begging me to be balls deep in you. I like a challenge.”