Page 62 of Fundamentals of Being a Good Girl
But then his mouth—his goddamn mouth—is nibbling and kissing up the backs of my thighs.
I gasp, the chalk clattering onto the metal ledge below.
“Did I tell you to stop?”
“No,” I say. “No, sir.”
He lets out a guttural, feral moan, and I hear the sound of a zipper sliding behind me.
I begin to turn around, but his hands are on my ass, forcing my legs apart, and all I manage to see is him on his knees behind me, like I’m his final prayer. His last hope.
This fucking man.
For fear that he’ll stop, I pick up the chalk and begin again.
His tongue traces along the lines left by the rod and then his tongue is between my legs, dangerously close to the pucker of my asshole as he laps at my pussy.
“Oh god,” I manage to say as the chalk draws a jagged line that started as an attempt at a letter.
He sinks all the way to the floor now and wedges himself between me and the wall. Relentlessly strong hands pull me to his face so hard that I’m practically riding his mouth.
Finally—finally!—his tongue finds my clit and he swirls circles around the sensitive bud before sucking on it until the only things holding me up are the wall and his hands.
The chalk falls to the floor, my lines forgotten as I brace one hand against the board and the other in his hair.
I’m so close. I’m so close. The tension is building to the point that it hurts. It physically hurts not to come on this man’s blessed tongue.
“N-no,” I manage to sputter. “I want to come on your cock.”
He shakes his head, his mouth still latched to my pussy.
“Oh my god, Bram. Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m close.”
He pulls back for just a moment, looking up at me, his face expression wild and his chin dripping. “You taste like honey. You’re going to come for me now, okay? And then you can have my cock. But I need you to say it. I need to know you’ve learned your lesson.”
My breath stutters in my chest as I manage to nod.
He slides two fingers into me without warning.
I can’t stop my head from rolling back, but his other hand keeps me in place while his warm breath on my core is a constant tease.
“Say it.”
“Fuck—”
His tongue swipes right over my clit, sending shocks down my thighs and into my toes.
I try again. “Fuck... the polls.”
“Good girl,” he mutters into my pussy before his tongue lets loose on my clit, his fingers thrusting in and out, making vulgar noises that should make me blush but only drive me closer to my finish.
His teeth drag against my clit, followed immediately by his soothing tongue, and that sends me over the edge. My orgasm is electric, sending volts of pleasure through me and I hardly register myself slithering down into his lap, his fingers still inside me, lazily thrusting as I’m hit with aftershocks of pleasure.
He cradles me for a few minutes and his lips trace patterns over my neck and cheeks and hair.
“You owe me your cock,” I tell him when I can finally speak.
His pants are unzipped, but his erection is still clothed in his boxer briefs.
