Stay Vertical (The Bare Bones MC #2)(36)
He knew by the fine trembling in her thighs she was getting closer. He closed a hand over his straining erection but for once, he didn’t take it out. Instead, he spanked her bare ass, knowing that would heighten and enhance her impending orgasm.
She commenced to wailing, “Lytton! Lytton! Lytton!” in between the fast, shallow pants, the cries in what he assumed was Swahili. As much as he liked hearing his name called out in sex, he wanted the ego boost of giving her the ultimate gift.
So he slapped her harder and licked her harder, and just four or five flat strokes of his tongue and she was off like a cannon.
He stopped spanking her because he wanted to slide two fingers up that cunt. He wanted to feel the powerful contractions of her channel around him, and he was rewarded. He lapped steadily at the clit as she squirted, a little jet of tasteless liquid that filled his mouth.
It didn’t seem that she was breathing as her * clamped down around his fingers, strangling them. He could feel the ebb and flow of each contraction as he slowed his lapping. Her thighs vibrated like tuning forks and he worried he might break something.
She seemed to come for a long, long time. Lytton was ashamed he wasn’t too experienced with exactly how long a woman should come. He hadn’t even known they all—some?—squirted like that. He had f*cked and entered into scenes with hundreds, thousands of women in his time, yet he’d always been mainly concerned with his own satisfaction. Now? He hadn’t even taken his own dick out.
This was a new source of pride for him as he slowed till he was lapping like a kitten at a milk bowl. Suddenly she breathed, like a drowning man given one last gasp at life. Her lungs painfully inhaled the searing air, shocking Lytton from his lapping. She breathed as though she’d swallowed a sword.
“What? What?” he whispered, holding her by the hips. “What’s wrong, little one?”
Her enormous ragged inhale sounded like a train wreck. “Don’t. Stop.”
Fuck! Bending again, Lytton returned to his lapping, but it only made her scream for real this time. He’d had some noisy subs before, and the ranch workers here were used to it, but this sound couldn’t possibly be good. June couldn’t possibly be enjoying this. He knew that if he kept f*cking after coming, it sometimes hurt so good, as though he’d gotten greedy and tried to hog too much of a good thing, so he had to stop.
Which he did now. Wiping his face with his forearm, he leaned back on one hand and enjoyed the sight as June sank to a sitting position on the plastic. She panted normally now, as though she’d just swum a mile. She raised her exhausted eyes to give him the most thrashed, hangdog look. Pride swelled in Lytton’s chest when he realized what he’d accomplished. Suddenly making women—in particular June—fall prey to monumental orgasms was his new favorite hobby.
“Jesus wept,” June panted.
That was such an endearing thing to say, Lytton remembered to remove her handcuffs. This one would require quite a bit of aftercare. He had to put his arms around her to rip off the Velcro, and he discovered he felt very affectionate toward her, almost as though he was the one being rushed by the surge of “nice” hormones. “You came like a freight train,” he whispered in her ear.
“I know,” she said weakly. “You’re more fantastic than my wildest dreams, Lytton. I don’t think I’m going to be able to give you up.”
“No one’s asking you to.” Lytton set the cuffs aside and massaged June’s arms. “Spend the night if you want. It’s getting too late to drive back down the mountain.”
“That’s very nice, but I have to go babysit my niece.”
Mentioning the niece reminded Lytton of something. He squeezed her hands, the bones feeling very tiny and birdlike. “I’ve heard that your mom has pancreatic cancer but is very poor. I’d like to help pay for her care.”
June’s eyes went even rounder. She looked utterly adorable with the nipple clamps swaying from the tips of her breasts. “What? Oh my lord, I couldn’t accept that. I barely know you.”
“But you’d accept a skull job from me?” She blushed. “Listen, June, I’ve got the money. If you’re going to be my partner you can accept this from me.”
She looked at him from under her lashes. “Don’t I have to call you Master…Master?”
He laughed and started sliding off the tweezer clamps. “It’s not necessary. Now listen. Go talk to the people of the home where you want to put your mother. Then tell me how much you need. If it’s pancreatic, I’m sorry to say she won’t last much longer. My own mother’s in a care facility so I understand.”
“Madison refused to help pay.”
Lytton was surprised. The two sisters seemed close, from what little he’d seen. “Really? Ford has that much influence over her that she’d send her own mother up the river?”
“It’s not Ford. I’m afraid we never got to the part of asking Ford because I’m sure he would’ve said yes. Madison outright refused. Apparently she hates our mother a lot more than I do.” She sighed sadly. “The old bat didn’t treat any of us very well, but she still doesn’t deserve to languish in squalor.”
“No one does.” Lytton took June’s hands again and looked her square in the eye. “I’ve seen enough of that on the res. So do what I ask, first thing tomorrow. I’ve got to go meet with Tobiah about a job, go call an inspector friend of mine, so I’ve got to go now.” Lytton gave her boob one last caress before she replaced it in the underwire bra cup. He instantly felt a pang of loss. And he barely knew her!