I lowered my head and teased one hard nipple with my tongue, just enough to make her writhe with impatience. She arched her back, thrusting her chest in my face.
I smiled and moved to the other one, circling it with the tip of my tongue but never taking it in my mouth. Reaching between her legs, I brushed one fingertip back and forth over her clit, just enough to elicit a strangled “Quinn!”
I shoved her back down on her knees.
“No talking.” I took my dick in one hand and dragged it along her jaw, over that dimpled chin, and across her lips. “I’ll touch you soon enough. Right now you’re going to stay still and open your mouth for me.”
She licked her lips and opened them over the head of my cock, and I felt my legs begin to hum, the pleasure starting to unfurl. Taking her head in my hands, I pushed in deeper, groaning at the hot, tight fit. I pulled out slowly and watched as she went after the tip with her tongue and tried to get it back in her mouth.
But I controlled everything, and I held her head just far enough away from me that she couldn’t get what she wanted.
Then I gave her a little, and she swirled her tongue around it, sucked it greedily.
I gave her some more, and she looked up at me, her eyes wild and desperate.
“You want it all?”
She nodded.
“Do you think you deserve it all?”
A little whimper of frustration.
“Are you ready to take it all?”
She nodded again, and I shoved my cock to the back of her throat, making her body twitch with the impact. I did it again and again, keeping my eyes on her to make sure she was OK, but sparing no force or depth.
I don’t know how she kept breathing, but she never backed off, never struggled to get away, never looked at me with fear in her eyes.
Just hunger.
When I was close, I held her head still and paused for a moment with my cock buried in her mouth, her lips still a couple inches from the hilt. I almost wished her hands were free—what would she do with them? Wrap her fingers around the base? Grab my balls? Play with my ass? How dirty did she get?
“Oh, fuck.”
The thought was enough to push me over the edge, and I came hard, yanking her head toward me as I thrust into her with short, rhythmic jabs that hit the back of her throat.
I watched it happen, and the sight of it made the orgasm so intense I thought my legs might give out. My knees shook, my thigh muscles clenching and then weakening.
When it was done, I pulled out of her and she sat back on her heels, swallowing and then gasping for air.
God, she was fucking incredible.
And I wasn’t about to let up.
“Your turn, darling,” I said, putting myself back together and doing up my pants.
I helped her stand and pulled off my sweater, thinking quickly about how I wanted her. Well, I wanted her to sit on my face, but that gave her too much control over her orgasm, and I didn’t want her to have any. I didn’t want to untie her hands, either, so lying on her back would be tough.
That left her to stand—until she couldn’t anymore.
I knelt in front of her. “Open your legs for me.”
She widened her stance, and I ran my hands up the front of her thighs, over her lace-covered stomach. I took her breasts in my hands, kneading them gently as I brought my mouth just close enough to her pussy that she’d feel me breathing. “What do you want?” I asked her.
“I want to come,” she said feverishly.
“More specific, please.”
“I want you to make me come.”
“How?” I twisted her nipples between my thumbs and fingers, and she swayed forward.
“With your tongue. I want you to make me come with your tongue.”
“Good girl.” I put my mouth on her over the damp lace, kissing her lightly, stroking her with my tongue—soft, slow, leisurely strokes that made her body vibrate with impatience.
“Quinn, please,” she begged. “Tell me what to say.”
“Say you want more.”
“I want more.”
I took my hands off her breasts and moved the drenched swath of lace covering her pussy aside. “Like this?” I slipped my tongue low between her legs and dragged it up to the top in one firm sweep.
“Yes,” she said, relief flooding her voice. “Yes.”
I did it again, and this time I lingered at the top, teasing her open and fluttering the tip of my tongue across her swollen clit.
“More,” she begged. “I still want more.”
I gave her a little more pressure, then a little less. A little steadier rhythm, then slowed again. I changed my angle, fucked her with my tongue, but never stayed with one thing for too long. When I felt her legs begin to shake, I backed off.
“Please, Quinn. Don’t stop,” she panted. “You have me so crazy right now, I can’t even see.”
“Always in such a rush,” I scolded. “I told you I wanted to taste you. Let me get my fill.”
“Fuck yes,” she said as I took her clit into my mouth and flicked it with my tongue. “Oh my God.”
I slid two fingers inside her easily, pushing deep, and she moved against my hand, her cries high-pitched and plaintive. I felt her insides tightening around my fingers as the tension in her body reached the apex, and then she screamed my name as her legs buckled.
I caught her around her hips, feeling her clit throb inside my mouth as my cock surged with renewed vigor.
I have to get inside her.
The need was intense, almost violent, and disturbingly possessive. She wasn’t mine by any means and didn’t even want to be mine, but something in me demanded her, compelled me to claim her.