Soon enough, he bent to lick and suckle the chocolate and meringue away once more, the sweet taste only adding to the lush delights of swirling his tongue around her nipple, then taking as much of her breast into his mouth as he could. His face was getting sticky from the pie, but he didn’t care, and when he’d almost licked her chocolaty tits dry, he ran his index finger through one remaining glob of chocolate and held it to her mouth—just like he’d done the first time they’d eaten pie together, but oh so different.
She parted her lips, took his finger inside. Sucked it dry. Then moved to sit up and reach for the pie herself, coming back with chocolate-covered fingertips.
He’d risen to his knees, straddling her thighs, so when she sat back up, she was face-to-face with his hard cock. Below him, she bit her lip, looking just slightly shy, and God, it turned him on even more—maybe because she was so very “sweetheart Carly” in that moment, but he also knew what was coming, and that it would come from the
other
side of Carly, a side he equally appreciated.
She wiped the messy pie onto the head of his dick, then used her fingertips to spread it around, and down onto the shaft. He sucked in his breath at the messy pleasure, and when she took his pie-slathered erection in hand and peered demurely up at him, his stomach contracted.
She licked her way up his length, to the very tip, where she swirled away the pudding and nearly made him lose his mind, the sight and sensation wrenching a groan from his gut. And when she sank her whole mouth over him, he had to shut his eyes, lean his head back. She slid her lips up and down, up and down, making him wetter and wetter, sucking the chocolateand-meringue mixture away until he began to feel crazed with the pleasure. “Aw baby, that’s so good, so fucking good,” he murmured.
After a minute, she scooped up more pie and this time simply used her fist to put it on him, working his cock in a slow, heated massage as the pudding oozed between her fingers. And then his dick was between those slick, sumptuous breasts, sliding wetly, hotly—she used her hands to press the soft flesh around his rigid shaft. And they moved that way together, in perfect, torrid rhythm, until—aw, Jesus—she resumed sucking him again. Yes. God, yes. Ah, damn, she was masterful at this—and when she looked up at him, his hard cock filling—stretching—her mouth, her face messy with pie now, the same as his had become . . . shit, he had to kiss her. He loved the way she sucked him, but he needed to feel her mouth under his,
all of her under him
.
After that, it was just plain messy—sticky hands roaming each other’s skin, sticky wet body parts rubbing together—but it excited them all the more. They traded feverish, chocolaty tongue kisses as he slid his moist cock against her bare slit. At times like this, her shaved pussy was
especially
appealing—he could feel how smooth she was there against his erection.
“I want to make your pussy taste like chocolate, too,” he rasped in her ear.
And she murmured a breathy, “Mmm, God.”
He slid immediately down her curvy body, grabbing another handful of the now-demolished pie as he went. She parted her legs wide, and he adored her for it as he smeared the chocolate and meringue there, slathering the bare white flesh as well as the pink inner folds.
And then he ate her, using both tongue and mouth to lick and slurp the gooey pie away. But he did it slow and thorough, making sure he tasted every fold and crevice, enjoying every sexy sigh and moan. He ran the tip of his tongue around her clit over and over, then licked the swollen pink nub as if it were a lollipop. Even long after the pie was gone, he could still taste its remnants mingling with her more pungent flavor.
Her messy hands were in his hair, holding his head there, and he liked it, liked her letting him know she wanted his mouth on her, licking her clean. She began pumping against him, fucking his face, and he let her. Yeah, he wasn’t wild about giving up control, but this didn’t feel like that—this just felt like a different way of being fucked by her, so he latched onto her sweet clit with his mouth and sucked inward.
Her cunt jolted against his face and she let out a cry that made him dig his hands into her ass, pull her even closer. And then she was whimpering, thrusting, and a glance upward revealed her clutching onto both tits, which only made him crazier, made him drive his cock against the bed a little—and then she was screaming out, fucking his mouth hard, hard, hard, and he knew she was coming.
His skin prickled with heat as he let her ride it out—then he finally backed away, but not before gently bestowing one final parting kiss to her rosy folds.
He wanted to fuck her—he wanted to fuck her brains out. But . . . he also wanted to keep right on getting messy with her.
He’d never had sex this messy before—he’d never really seen the appeal—but there was something about the gooey glide it provided, for hands, for other parts of their anatomy, that had him heated to a fever pitch, and he wasn’t ready to be done with that yet. He felt the compulsion to do
everything
with her, everything two people could do, maybe things he hadn’t even thought of yet. Until twenty minutes ago, after all, he’d never thought of rubbing pie on a woman’s body, and look at them now, both drenched in sticky sweetness and aroused beyond all comprehension.
So even as much as one part of him wanted to ram his raging erection into her, he instead placed his hand on her hip and gently rolled her over in the bed, to her stomach.
“What are you doing?” she asked. He was pretty sure
she
wanted to fuck, too.
“I’m gonna eat pie off your sweet little ass. Can you hand me the plate?”
She reached toward the table and grabbed onto what remained of the pie, passing it back to him as he said, “Do you know how good your ass looks in a pair of blue jeans?”
“Um—really?” she whispered.
“
Hell
yeah,” he told her. “And now I’m gonna find out how good it looks in chocolate pudding.”
She laughed a little and wiggled her butt, inviting the playfulness, so he gave it a light smack. And then he bent to kiss it. Just once. And it made her sigh. Like that had probably felt better than she’d expected.
So he kissed her there again, this time earning a small moan that tightened his cock all the more. Damn. She was so responsive. And it was a crying shame she’d spent so long
not
responding to guys, and then not even
trying
except for her outings to Traverse City. Maybe that was why he wanted to do
everything
with her. Because she needed it. She deserved it. He wanted her to feel every good, hot, sensual sensation there was to experience.
Situating himself between her legs, he reached back into the pie plate he’d set on the bed next to them and grabbed out two handfuls of pudding and meringue, smearing them unapologetically across her ass. They’d come this far—there was no worrying about delicacy or messes at this point.
He licked it off with vigor, tasting the chocolate, which was somehow made better by having been spread over her flesh. While he worked, he used his hands to continue rubbing the pudding around wherever he wasn’t licking.
At one point, his hand snaked instinctively back between her legs, just to make her feel good there, too—to keep her hot and wet. And then his fingers made their way inside her—so moist and slick, from both the pie and her natural juices.
“Lift your ass up, baby,” he said on a heated breath—because he wanted to see, wanted to watch his chocolaty fingers go in and out of her, the pudding melting and oozing now, the sight weirdly exciting to him. Extracting his fingertips, he licked them clean—then once she’d pulled her knees up under her, raising her bottom higher, he pushed them in again, fucking her that way, making her sigh and pant.
The lust that overtook him now was a primal one—about fucking and instinctive exploration, about wetness and loss of inhibition. Still watching himself touch her, fuck her, he eased his fingers back out and slid them upward, gliding across the narrow bit of skin between her cunt and asshole. A strange, impassioned noise echoed from her throat, and her anus contracted, puckering ever so slightly. Jake followed the urge to slip the tip of his middle finger inside.
Her reaction was instant and unmistakable. “Unh.” The sound came deep, guttural. He felt it in his chest, sensed the profound and unexpected level of her pleasure. So he didn’t hesitate—he slowly, smoothly pushed his finger all the way in.
In front of him, she sucked in her breath—he heard it, and this time it was her whole body that seemed to contract. In response, so did his. He wanted to fuck her this way, wanted to make her feel it, wanted to make her crazy with the heat of it.
He began to move his finger in and out—thrusting, thrusting—and she began to whimper and sob in a way he’d never heard from her before. He became vaguely aware of her clawing at the sheets beneath her, wild and uninhibited—and so he fucked her ass harder, as hard as he could manage with just a finger.
“Oh God, stop, stop!” she sobbed.
He went still. “Not good?” Shit, had he misread her response?
“No, it’s . . . it’s . . .” She sounded breathless, finally managing, “It’s amazing. I . . . I can’t even understand how amazing it feels. But it’s so good that . . . I almost can’t take it.”
Fresh heat flooded his body, warmed his cheeks. No, he
hadn’t
misread her. But he kept his finger mostly still as he said, “You’ve never had anything in that spot before.”
She shook her head where it now rested against a pillowcase. “No.”
“Some girls don’t dig it,” he told her, “but some do.”
“Um, guess you can put me in the do category.”
God, she was amazing to him. Not only the way she loved sex, but the way she was getting freer and freer about it with him.
A thought which turned his mind back to primal urges, possibilities. The desire to pleasure her in ways she’d never been pleasured before. The desire to slake his own needs. His voice came in a low, gentle rasp. “Do you want my cock there? Do you want me to fuck you that way?”
Chapter 11
H
er voice came soft, breathy, unsure. “Will it hurt?”
His chest tightened with the full measure of lust and tenderness he felt for her. “I’ll be as gentle as I can and we can stop if it’s too much.”
She looked over her shoulder at him. Their eyes met. And she whispered, “Okay.”
A quivery breath left him. At her trust. At the intimacy of the moment. At the strange burst of masculinity vibrating through his muscles as they tensed with the responsibility he’d just accepted: be gentle enough not to hurt her; be rough enough to make it feel as good as humanly possible.
As he reached for the pudding now—it was no longer pie—he simply saw it as lubricant, as what would make this work for her. He generously slathered his erection with it. And then he positioned the head of his cock at the tiny fissure of her ass and wondered how this would go. Taking his cock in hand to guide it, he pressed slowly inward.
She let out a cry through clenched teeth—but then quieted, sighed.
“Is it okay?” he asked, his heart beating slow but hard against his chest as he held back.
Her breath trembled. “I . . . I think. It’s . . . so strange.”
Jake swallowed back his fears and pressed his length deeper, sliding, easing slowly inward until he was mostly inside her ass. Aw God, it was
so
fucking tight.
“Oh . . .” she moaned.
“Good?” he asked, hoping like hell. His face felt hot, flushed.
“Uh-huh.” It came out whimpery and high-pitched.
Now his chest went warm, too. Thank God. The news led him to begin moving, in and out, fucking her ass in a slow, gingerly glide. He’d felt strangely close to Carly before now—somehow tied to her, by secrets, by lust, by the overpowering need that had risen between them. But he’d never felt quite as intimate with her, quite as connected to her, as he felt in this moment, listening to her pretty, heated sighs fill the air, watching the feminine sway of her back below him, the curve of her round ass, and the spot at the center where his dick was so sweetly, snugly buried.
Carly clenched her teeth lightly, her heart pounding; her very pores seemed to vibrate with the nearly overwhelming pleasure permeating her being. It wasn’t only in her nether regions—it radiated outward to the very tips of her fingers and toes. Her scalp tingled hotly—hell, her entire
body
tingled, each thrust in her ass wrenching fresh perspiration from her. She heard her own whimpers and moans, but everything was involuntary now—being wrung from her.
She’d never imagined, never dreamed, doing
this
could feel so good—even while utterly consuming her. So strange, like a whole new way of having sex—and it was perhaps the only time in her life that having so little control had at the same time felt so amazing, so impossibly intense. There was little room for thought—about control or anything else—it was simply sensation, sensation, sensation. She’d never felt so thoroughly fucked before.
Or . . . did any of that feeling have to do with this being Jake, the only man in her adult life whom she’d ever begun to feel any remote attachment to? The only man . . . who’d ever been patient enough, determined enough, to break down the invisible walls surrounding her all these years and keeping her from really connecting with a guy.
Right now, this minute—there might be little room for thought, but there remained room for emotion, and she had the oddest inclination . . . that she was falling for him. Really falling.
But she couldn’t even examine that right now—too much power echoed from his rock-hard cock through her ass, her pelvis, out into each of her limbs. Enough power to make her crazy. She cried out, sobbed, moaned. She felt herself thrashing about, but wasn’t sure why. Behind her, his groans came heavy, deep, and she sensed him getting as swept up in this heady brand of sex as she was. She’d never been this physically excited, this pushed to the edge of such intense pleasure, without coming. And as each plunge of his erection drove into that tiniest of orifices, she felt as if it was almost enough to make her come with no other stimulation.
Almost
. That was the part making her thrash around, wild with a pleasure that needed to peak and wouldn’t quite. “God oh God oh God,” she heard herself whimper—desperately pleasured but on the edge of a hot, wild agony she couldn’t quite comprehend.