Authors: Dakota Gray
I can't breathe for a full two seconds. This woman is turning me into a Disney Princess. “You fucked him?”
“
He tried.”
I pull out my phone because Duke will know her name. He would have likely done a background check, poked her finger for a blood sample to test her for everything under the sun, and maybe still even has her DNA on file.
The bastard doesn't answer. I shoot a text to Tarek to have our wayward friend call me if he hears from Duke first. When I draw my attention back to her, she's laughing quietly.
“
I've never met Duke,” she says, “but you've proved my point. You're obsessed with what you can't have.”
I take the tea I bought her, get up, and throw the cup in the trash. As I make my way back to my seat, she's sitting there with her arms crossed, looking pleased as fucking punch that she can toy with me without trying hard.
Calm as I can be, I sit back down. I need to put things the way they should be. “Give me ten minutes.”
We're both adults. She knows what I plan to do in that time. She runs her finger over her bottom lip. “And then what?”
“
I'll be out of your life.”
“
Okay.”
I blink at how quickly she answers. I'm sure I'm hearing her wrong. “What?”
“
Name a time and place.”
I narrow my eyes and skate my gaze over her face. If she means the words, I can't tell. I make note to never play strip poker with her. I'll be down to my nut hairs in no time.
I'm going to be cautious, in case this ends with her laughing at me again. With a few keystrokes on my phone I'm on my personal health portal. I push my cell across the table.
Hesitant, but clearly curious, she picks it up. “You test for everything? I thought you used dental dams?”
“
I’d rather be safe than sorry. Your turn.”
She bites her lip. “Of course.”
To my surprise, a flush darkens her skin as she pulls out her phone. Now she curls into herself and puts distance between us. Eventually she slides her phone to me.
The results are a year old. I try not to react outwardly to this news in any way. She's already blushing. I'm not going to be a dick about this.
“
There's a hotel down the street from here,” I say, still cautious but optimistic.
She admitted, by way of those results, to having a sexless year. Do I want to know why? Yeah. Do I want to know how a woman like her could go so long without...touch? Sure. Can I fathom going that long without? Fuck, no.
What's important is the way her expression softens when she realizes I'm not going to tease her or ask questions about her celibacy.
“
Get me another tea first,” she murmurs. “It was rude of you to throw mine away because I pissed you off.”
I do because I'm her lap dog until I have my ten minutes. She's waiting for me at the door. There's no thanks or any show of gratitude. I don't fucking care. She's serious. In about twenty minutes I'll be sane again. She'll be out of my life and making someone else's a living hell.
And because I'm on her invisible leash, I follow her out of the Starbucks. The hotel is in walking distance, in the middle of downtown so the prices are nothing to sneeze at, but it'll be worth it. Fifteen minutes and I'll be able to forget Stealth. I doubt I'll break her, but she won't treat me like meat. I'll be the guy who blew her mind.
Yeah. My ego is finally limping along, and one day I'll care. One day I'll look back and cringe. Not today. My heart is banging against my rib cage and there's a thin layer of sweat along my forehead.
I'm about to get my fix. No left nuts required. I lead the way to the first floor room barely noticing any details about the hotel. It's more than a little nice, and more than clean enough she won't mind taking off her pants.
I insert the keycard, and we're inside after three beeps. I glance back and she hands me her tea as she slips out of her heels. I almost move to throw this one away, but I place the cup on the small writing table near the door.
She takes the time to fold her pants along the starch line. I feel vindicated to see the black thong, but I'm a little dizzy at the sight of her ass as she slips out of them. Quarters could bounce on her ass, but they might cling, too, just to stay close to her. I only have ten minutes so I can't imagine all the things I could have done. All the ways I would have gripped her ass as she rides my face. Ten minutes is all she's given me, and I'm going to do it old school. The classics are classic for a reason.
She struts over to the bed, and without any direction from me, she sits on the edge, her feet notched perfectly the way I like. For a second my gaze fixates on her tattoo. It's Hermes' wing riding up her ankle. Fitting. Hermes was a cunning fuckface who toyed with all the gods and demigods just because he could. It's perfect for her, for this situation.
She shifts, spreading her legs wider for me. My chest constricts and breathing is optional. I'm not sure if it's the sight of her on full display or that she knows my every tic. Who is the woman that told her my everything? Who exposed my every twitch and desire? Just opened me up for study and allowed Stealth to take it upon herself to be my karma?
“
Nine minutes,” she says and leans back on her elbows. “Scared?”
I never understood how you could hate-fuck someone. I'm not wasting a boner on someone I can't stand.
But I get it now. I'm going to put my mouth on her with nothing between us. I'm going to upend her world like she's done to mine by simply existing.
I focus.
Her inner and outer lips are the same shade of brown as her mouth. Her thick and long hood draws down to a perky clit that peeks out between her luscious folds. Her labia is a thing of beauty. Brown, then pink along the inside. They curve seductively right at her entrance. Not small, not big—I can press my tongue in between or suck them both without too much trouble.
Eight minutes, and I can't stand there in reverence like I want to.
That's okay. I only need three to make her come. The rest is buildup, and that's the true trick of the trade. Good pussy eating isn't all tongue to clit and don't stop. It's worship. It's control. It's patience.
My steps thud slowly as I close the space between us. When I kneel at the end of the bed, I lightly rasp my nails from her knee to her inner thigh. Her breathing hitches. A soft, feminine sound. Any blood that has managed to remain in my brain heads south. I bring my hands to rest at her apex and massage the silky skin with my thumbs. More pressure as I glide my thumbs over her pussy lips. She squirms. Her hands move to her torso and ball.
“
Don't be shy now,” I tell her but I don't break my concentration. “If you need to squeeze your tits, go for it.” At that I do meet her gaze. “I'll just watch.”
“
You're not...”
I make her words disappear with a brush of my finger between her inner lips. The bumpy texture is delicious against the pad of my thumbs. She tries to speak again, and this time I caress her clit. Again, until she's swollen at my touch.
Six minutes and I watch as a single drop of her cream drips from her entrance down between her ass cheeks. I catch it with my tongue, riding my fingers up to expose her clit more. By five minutes, I've traced the folds, the inner lips, sucked at them for good measure, and her hips are arching up, trying to catch my mouth. I'm licking and sucking everything but what she needs the most.
My cock throbs in my jeans, but what's a little pain between him and me?
My tongue is riding up and down the bumpy texture of her lips. My mouth is filled with her musky, tangy taste. Her moans are digging deeper into my bones. My cock can wait.
I give her my fingers next, add them to the pleasure. This is where you separate the boys from men. I'm not trying to stab her or play tease and touch with her cervix. Who wants to be nicknamed Jack the Pussy-Ripper? And I know my fingers will never be my cock, but I can create that full and fucked sensation.
Slow dips into her with two fingers—she's wet enough—and then gently I push down. Her gasp-moan is followed with her arousal thickening around my fingers.
I can't help it. I slide out of her to take a taste from my forefinger. Another. One more. I groan each time. She mutters, “Nasty fucker. Oh, God,” and I go for another. She coats my fingers and she's delicious. I have to go back to the source. I put her on my tongue again.
Three minutes, and she has a death grip on my strands. If I don't stop fucking around she's just going to jerk my face into her pussy, smother me and call it a day.
Showtime.
I notch my chin above my fingers, close my mouth over her clit and suck softly to create suction. Her strangled moan proves she's mine. I've got her. There's nothing she can do short of lurching off the bed.
I trace the alphabet over her clit, slowly. What I choose to do with my tongue doesn't matter as long as it licks, flicks and drives her mad. I don't fight back a single groan of pleasure. She'll feel each one to the tips of her toes. I let my fingers get in on the fun, fucking her in short fast thrusts.
I repeat O. It's my favorite letter, and she's speaking in tongues and trying to squeeze my head like a grape.
Her reaction is why pussy eating is my thing. I can have the kind of dick game that can convert a woman to the religion of me, which is nice and great for the ego. But if I want to see a woman stripped down, animalistic, half out of her mind and like she might be getting a demon exorcised, I eat her pussy like a god.
Because I know what I'm doing, and she's clamped down on my fingers, I skip between Z and O. I'm missing a patch of hair so I know I'm on the right track.
One minute, and I pull back with one long suck and twist my fingers gently, curl them. She's soft, swollen and wet. She's
sensitive
and
primed
.
“
Nate,
Nate
.”
The world darkens at the edges, and I don't care about anything else. My heart beat can pound in my dick from now until eternity. The ache in my jaw means she's close. Just a bit more.
Mine.
I make the come here motion with my fingers and dive my face back in to finish the job. A high-pitched noise escapes her right before her legs tremble.
Suction, and I flick my tongue over her clit.
She's mine.
She will always be mine.
The walls seems to echo with a single word—
Nate
.
Zero minutes.
I don't stop after she comes on my fingers. I keep going, forced to pin her hips to the bed. I'll stop when she begs me to. Until then I'm eating up her cream and letting her clit know I own her. Never forget it.
She makes a keening noise and sits up, her mouth open, and she's looking at me like she's pissed. The choppy pants she makes sound more like sobs, but she doesn't beg me to stop. Really, she's just saying my name and
fuck
every other word. I would smile but my mouth is full. Her taste changes, and I have to eat that up too. It's only right.
After she comes for the third time, and that one was more of a gush than a slow drip, she balls her hand in my hair and yanks my head back. Her chest jerks up and down in a race. The heat in her eyes is either lust or anger.
It's both.
I can't look away.
Time stops like it does in the movies. I try to read every thought flashing through her eyes. I can't pinpoint them all, but I can guess they all lead back to what I did to her friend. What I've just done with her now.
She still has a hold on my hair. A hard jerk and my chin is up. I'm not a submissive—never had any tendencies or inclinations, but fuck that makes my cock want to detach itself and find a home inside her.
Stealth draws a finger over the mess I've made on my face. A sound filled with need rumbles in her chest. She presses her finger into my mouth, and her eyes darken as I suck the digit clean. I place my hands on the bed and fist them.
You can't rip her clothes off, Nate.
But she's a fucking freak, and I love it.
Her thighs shudder, but her face is blank. “Is it enough for you, Nate?”
“
No, Sugar, it would never be.”
I get the smile when I nip her finger and grunt. I still can't describe her taste. She feeds me more, her expression soft but curious.
“
But now you know, right?” she asks.
“
Yes.” I lick and lap, still not content. Yeah. My dick is harder than pavement, but I still know next to nothing about her. And I want to know. I also want her to grip my head and let me go another few rounds.
She swipes what's left of her off my chin and gives me a soft peck on the mouth. I can only blink at that as my lips heats and tingles at the brief touch.
What the fuck? A sweet kiss? And I'm twitching at the intimacy. I'm almost leaning in for more. I can see myself pinning her to the bed to take more.
Wrong fucking mouth, Nate.
The only thing to appease me is that her legs are shaking as she shifts off the bed. I turn to watch while she puts her thong and pants back on. Not a glance in my direction.
I have to start telling myself she's playing it cool. She's still mine. Doesn't matter if I never talk to her again. The next guy who attempts to give her head might get told, “let's fuck instead.” It's going to be my tongue that she'll imagine.
And I know I did a good enough job to make her consider hunting me down the next time she gets hit with a craving.
She will.
I lift from the floor and sprawl back on the bed. The ceiling is my focus since I can't bring myself to watch her anymore. She's moved on to her tea and, fuck, I have the room for the night. My pulse is pounding in my dick. Hard enough to give me a headache until it subsides. Her clothes rustle, and I can only assume she's putting on her heels. I refuse to look. I have this room until tomorrow afternoon. I can think about my life choices or get drunk.