Kiss My Cupcake(64)

I ease my palm up her thigh, moving inward. Her legs are parted to accommodate me, so when I reach the apex I brush my knuckles over the satin.

“Oh yes, please.” She spreads her legs wider.

This is what I want, for all that uptight Instagram perfection to fall away. I want her uninhibited and unworried about anything but how she feels. I keep sweeping my knuckles back and forth, barely skimming the damp fabric. “Do you like that, Blaire?”

“Mmm, it’s nice.” She wriggles her butt.

I slip a single finger under the elastic and I’m met with hot, wet skin.

“Oh, that’s so much nicer.” Her eyes flutter closed as I stroke her center, easing a finger inside.

She props herself on her arms and she bites her lip, moaning softly when I add a second finger. Her head rolls on her shoulders and her lids flutter open, gaze dropping to where my forearm disappears under her skirt. “God, that is so hot,” she groans, and her fingertips graze my inked arm.

“It is, isn’t it?” I agree. “You look like a good girl who got caught up with a bad boy.” She looks like she fell right out of the fifties with her perfect hair and retro dresses, which makes her current position, with the top hanging at her waist and my hand under the bunched-up skirt, seem that much more illicit. And those steel-toed boots paired with her thigh-high stockings are the icing on the sexy cupcake.

She drags her skirt up higher, exposing my hidden forearm and wrist, all the way up to where her panties are pushed to the side and I’m buried inside her.

I curl the fingers of my free hand around the back of her neck, thumb stroking along the edge of her jaw. “You like watching what I’m doing to you, Blaire?”

She fists the fabric and moans again. “Yes.”

“You gonna be a good girl and come all over my hand?” I pump faster, taking cues from the way her breath catches.

“Oh God,” she groans and tries to close her legs, but her knees hit my hips. And then her orgasm hits—she contracts around my fingers, hips swiveling as she rides my hand.

“You are so damn sexy,” I assure her.

Before the orgasm wanes, I withdraw my fingers. She makes a plaintive sound, probably unimpressed that I stopped mid-orgasm, but I’m planning to make up for that. I yank her panties down. They get caught up on her boots, but I manage to get them off without shredding them. I grip her by the hip and drag her to the edge of the counter as I drop to my knees.

“What—”

The rest of her question dissolves into a gasp when I lick up her center.

She falls back on one elbow, the other hand sliding into my hair and gripping tight.

“Mmm, just like one of those cream-filled cupcakes you made me eat in front of that bachelorette party.” I cover her sex with my mouth. “But tastes even better.”

That gets a moan out of her, slightly embarrassed, but also totally turned on based on the way she rolls her hips and rides my tongue back to another orgasm.

As soon as I rise up, she grabs the nape of my neck with one hand and fuses her mouth to mine. She mumbles something completely unintelligible, mostly because she’s sucking on my tongue. She frantically searches for the waistband of my underwear with the other one and jams her hand down the front, freeing me from my boxers.

She breaks the kiss. “You have condoms, right?”

I pull my wallet from my back pocket, flip it open, and slap it on the counter so I can retrieve the condom that’s been in there since before August.

As soon as it’s in my hand, Blaire nabs it and squints at the date before she tears it open. Her tongue peeks out as she rolls it down my length and uses her foot—the boots are still on, and I’m still wearing my pants—to pull me closer.

“Hold on. Raise your arms.”

She frowns but complies, maybe because the orgasms have made her less argumentative, or possibly she’s just as ready as I am for sex, even after two orgasms. I grab the bottom of her dress and lift it over her head. It messes up her perfect hair a little, but all that does is make her sexier.

And totally naked.

“You’re a vision, Blaire.” Anticipation makes my erection kick in my fist, but I force myself to slow it down for a beat. I drag the head of my condom-covered length along her sex. “You ready for me?”

“So damn ready.” She bites her lip.

“You want slow and soft or fast and hard?” I line myself up and meet her hot, needy gaze.

She gives me a saucy grin. “Surprise me.”

I chuckle. “Such a good bad girl.” I grab her hips to steady her as I push inside.

She scrambles to lock her hands around the back of my neck. When I’m sure she’s latched on good and tight I pull back out, almost all the way before I thrust again. Her jaw goes slack and her eyes roll up on a deep groan.

“Okay?” I ask, before I do it again.

“Yes. Please don’t stop.”

I shift her so she’s right at the edge of the counter and pump into her, taking my cues from her moans and her pleas not to stop. As it turns out, Blaire seems to be a fan of hard and fast.

It doesn’t take long before I’m warning her I’m about to come. I can always improve endurance on round two. She pries one hand from my neck and dips her fingers between her thighs. “Hold on, I’m so close.”