Bet on It (64)

“Since I’ve had anybody do that.”

“Damned shame,” Walker murmured. “If I had my way, I’d live between your thighs.” He nipped at the soft flesh behind her ear.

“Those are strong words, Walker. You haven’t even gotten more than a taste yet, and you’re already ready to devote your entire life to it?”

“One taste was all I needed.” He nipped her harder this time, soothing the hurt with his tongue when she hissed. “I told you it was better than cobbler, didn’t I?”

“I figured you were exaggerating.”

His hands came around to the sides of her breasts; he could feel her hard nipples poking into his chest through her shirt. His mouth ached with the need to suck and bite. “Uh-uh, I was dead serious.”

When he felt her hot breath against the shell of his ear, he almost jumped. “Maybe you’re right then,” she whispered. “Maybe it’s not technically breaking the pact if we play a little … just this once.”

Aja pulled back, just enough that he could rub his thumbs over her nipples. He still hadn’t gotten the chance to see them. She’d kept her dress on last time, and she’d been facing away while they fucked. It was risky, but he needed to see them. The need made his skin burn. They had both gotten the results of their STI tests back days ago. The relief they had felt that they both tested negative had been palpable.

“Will you show me yourself, Peaches?” He tugged on the hem of her top.

As much as he wanted it, this wasn’t the time or place for her to get completely naked. He’d have to fantasize in real time about what her nipples would feel like under his fingertips. He was being forced to choose which thing he valued more, and the thought of his tongue on her pussy overrode everything else.

Pupils wide, lips spread, chest rising and falling, she was breathtaking. She pulled up her shirt a little, right under her breasts so she could get to the button on her shirt. He took his time, taking in the stretch marks on her plush belly and the way her thick waist looked in contrast to her hips.

Then, right there, in the place where her white shorts met her sex, he saw a wet spot. It was small, just beginning to spread, but it made the material of her shorts appear thin. He pressed his nose to it, groaning at how easily he could smell the evidence of her hunger for him.

He traced a finger along the edge of her shorts and watched her belly quiver. The little silver button popped, then the zipper was down. Aja lifted her bottom off the couch, both of them working the shorts off and past her little barely there sandals.

She kept one foot on the floor but threw the other over the back of the couch, opening herself up to him completely.

“I fuckin’ knew you weren’t wearin’ any panties.”

“How?”

His grin was dirty. “I could tell, trust me.”

He kissed the dark skin on her inner thighs, rubbing his cheeks against her wet heat as if he could soak it into his skin forever.

She was the only thing he could focus on. Just like he did with the rest of her, he drank her in with his eyes. She was a veritable five-course meal for the senses, and every cell in his body cried out for him to consume her.

He blew warm air against her clit, watching as it pulsed.

“Peaches aren’t for staring at, Walker. They’re for eating.”

It was hard to argue with that, so he didn’t. Instead, he ran the flat of his tongue between her lips, letting the tip tickle her clit before taking it into his mouth. Her back arched up off the couch, a loud moan escaping her.

He released her, looking up to see her fingers pinching her nipples. “Shhh, baby, I need you to be quiet. You don’t want to get caught do you?”

Aja didn’t answer, nor did she seem able to quiet her gasping and moaning.

“Aja, look at me.” He conjured up every bit of sternness he had in him. When he caught her eyes, he made sure to keep them. “Unless you want somebody to come in here and see you spread out like Sunday dinner, you’ve got to hush.”

He opened her up with his fingers, licking at the wetness on the surface of her, spreading her pleasure around.

She gripped the hair at the crown of his head, drawing his face deeper until he felt like he was drowning in her. He made a feast out of her, eating and drinking so heartily he was almost sure he sounded like some type of animal. Behind his zipper, his dick was stiff as a brick. Had his hands not been on Aja’s body, he would have reached down to jerk himself off—given himself some type of relief.

He’d always taken a special kind of pleasure in pleasing others, but what he felt while pleasing Aja was different, more intense than anything he’d ever experienced. Whatever it was engulfed him, took him under like a heavy, crashing wave. Everything else disappeared and getting her off became his only purpose in life.

When he felt her start to contract around his fingers and tongue, noticed that the shaking in her thighs was becoming more intense and the movement in her hips sloppier, he knew that his purpose was about to be realized.

“Am I goin’ to make you come, Peaches?”

“Yes,” she bit out between grit teeth, her digits tightening in his hair. “Fuck yes.”

“Can I watch?”

But he was too busy bringing her through it with his mouth to see what her face looked like when she came. He imagined her the way she’d been before, when he’d fingered her against her car. Eyes clenched shut, mouth open in a silent scream, too beautiful to even be real. She kept her grip on his hair the whole time, and when she was done, she pushed his head back, hooded eyes staring at the mess she’d made on his face.