When his tongue slides against my pussy from behind, I can’t hold back the moan on my lips. I’ve been dying for him all day. Last night he took me in his bed, no toys, just straight vanilla sex. Or at least, that’s what I think it would be called. It was amazing; I came twice before I passed out in his arms. But that isn’t quite the same as this dark edge of pleasure we both clearly crave.
Now I understand the true meaning of “eating pussy” because Cav is voracious, leaving no spot untouched. My clit is aching with need, and my orgasm isn’t far out of reach. When he slides his tongue back and licks me there, I jump and my hands slip, almost letting go of the grip on my ass.
Cav feels me start and slaps my hip. “Don’t let go, baby girl, or I’ll do more than put my tongue up this sweet little hole.”
Tremors work through me. How can he say such dirty, filthy things, and why do I love them? I’m soaked, quite literally dripping, and he’s giving me no mercy. When he reaches around to pinch my clit between two fingers, I completely lose it. My orgasm slams into me and my scream fills the room.
Waves rush over me again and again, the aftershocks ricocheting down my arms and legs. I never want to let go of this feeling. I love it. And I’m dangerously close to admitting that I love him.
“If I were a nice guy, I’d let you come again for me, eat you until you scream some more.”
Cav stops speaking to do exactly what he says—lick and suck and nip at my pussy and my ass until another orgasm is building just out of reach. And then he stops abruptly and pulls away.
“But I’m not that nice. I want you wet and aching for me all night. I want you thinking about what I’m going to do to you when I get you alone. How deep you’re going to take my cock down your throat. How hard I’m going to fuck you. How it’s going to feel to have your pussy and your ass filled.”
Just his words send punches of lust through me.
“But I want—”
Cav pulls my hands away from my ass and forces me to stand. “And you’re going to get it all.” After spinning me around, he pulls my skirt down. “But when I say.”
I’m stunned and shaking on borrowed heels, in a borrowed dress, with a body that’s dying for the man standing before me.
“Oh, baby, you look beautiful. Those cheeks are flushed.” He skims the back of his fingers over my burning face. “These nipples are so fucking hard.” He lowers his hand to stroke them as I arch into him.
Finally, he rubs his hand over my pussy, pressing lightly against my clit. “This pussy is going to stay wet for me all night until I’m ready to fuck it. Isn’t it?”
At this rate, I’m going to be wet and waiting for him for the rest of my damn life.
“Tell me.”
“Yes,” I whisper, wanting to taunt him the same way he’s taunting me. “I’m going to be wet all night, constantly thinking about how hard I’m going to get you with my mouth before you bend me over and fuck me, and about how good it’s going to feel when you fill me up.”
His eyes flash golden-green. “You’re goddamn perfect, Greer. That filthy little mouth of yours is going to get you fucked like the dirty girl you are.”
I bite my lip because the only words on my tongue are more pleas that he not wait and take me right now. But I can read the look in his eyes. This is his game. He’s going to tease me all night until I can’t take it anymore. It’s a game I’m ready to play.
“I can’t wait,” I tell him. Lifting up on my toes, I press my lips to his jaw.
Cav’s eyes heat. He wants me just as badly as I want him.
Tonight’s going to be fun.
I’m no stranger to high-society parties, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready for glitz and glam at Hollywood levels. From the moment we’re admitted behind the massive fence protecting Windsor Reed’s home from paparazzi and curious onlookers, it’s very clear this society girl isn’t in New York anymore. It’s not the money factor; it’s the boldness of it.
Inside the gates, it seems there are no boundaries. Dresses barely cover the essentials, and I’m pretty sure I’ve already seen flashes of two women’s lady bits before we’re even out of the car.
Luckily for me, my man doesn’t want me putting on the same show, so he lifts me down from the back of the SUV.
He nods to the driver. “I’ll call you in a few hours.”
“Yes, sir.”
When our ride is gone, we walk up to the front door of a sprawling house with a similar Spanish style as Cav’s, but where his is simple and understated, this house is over the top in every way, starting with the fountain in the front courtyard where two women are calf-deep and splashing water at each other. Two men, most likely their dates, stand back and enjoy the show. One of the women is wearing a solid white dress that the water has turned sheer. The bulge below the belt of one onlooker also can’t be missed.
What kind of party is Cav taking me to?
One of the men lifts his chin to Cav, and he returns the gesture. The man’s gaze lands on me and rakes down my dress so boldly, I imagine I can feel the trail. Cav’s arm is already around me, but he splays his hand out on the front of my hip, his fingers edging toward my center, and squeezes me against his side.