Page 22 of Hard
With the admission comes the action as I begin to drag the stiff fabric of her dress from her knees up. I don’t do it slowly, but with a roughness that absolutely belies my desire. Paisley’s breath hitches, and her hand falls from my dick, catching her balance on the table she’s leaning against.
‘Fuck, yeah.’ My eyes are glued to the sheer lace tops of her stockings. Rather than ruffles this time, her garters are sleek and coloured like midnight. ‘I’m going to fuck you while you’re wearing these.’
‘Just... please.’ The words are exhaled along with a tremulous breath as she tilts her chin, her gaze lifting to the ceiling.
‘No, darlin’.’ I lift one hand from her thighs momentarily, placing my thumb on her chin. ‘You don’t want to miss this.’
Her eyes shine dark in the moonlight as she watches my face, not my hands, as I reveal the luminescent skin above her stocking tops. My fingers trail her silky skin, my palms pushing her thighs open.
Her knickers are sheer and almost totally transparent, her femininity on display in the form of a neat strip of curls beneath a smattering of embroidered polka dots.
‘I can smell you. Smell your sweet cunt.’ Leaning into her, I press two fingers against her crease. Maybe it’s the boldness of my words rather than this first touch that has her knees buckling.
Her back arching.
Her whispered curse.
Her body begins to tremble as my finger slides a slow and rhythmic dance, the material dampening against my fingers as she pushes against me.
‘Please,’ she whispers again.
‘Please what?’ I answer with an edge of taunt, an edge of tease as I curl my fingers, hooking under the barely there strip of fabric between her legs.
‘Please touch me.’
I will. And soon. But for now, I know she’s feeling the cool air of the room on her wet pussy, her need building and twisting until she’s fit to burst.
‘When I get my mouth on you, I know I’ll find you shiny and wet. Just for me.’
‘God, yes!’
‘You still think you won’t scream?’ She folds her bottom lip between her teeth, trying not to smile. But I don’t wait for a definitive answer as I add, ‘Get your arse on this table, darlin’, because I’m gonna eat you out.’
Fingers at her waist, I make quick work of her zipper and then pull the dress over her head. And then I find myself just staring... staring at the perfection of the girl with the milkmaid braids. But there’s nothing else simple about this view as she spreads her legs in invitation, baring herself through her gossamer-thin knickers. A bra to match; strapless and straining with the weight of her need.
‘You’re fucking perfect,’ I whisper roughly, my hands spanning her collarbones and then dragging down over her skin. I release her dark nipples from their sheer cups, taking each into my mouth in turn, relishing the tenor of her hiss as I use a threat of teeth. My hands travel farther down, pushing her thighs wider still. The sight and scent of her driving me to the brink of insanity.
I feed my fingers between her legs, pulling the thin strip away from her skin. The material is damp and glistens under the moonlight.
‘Look at how wet you are,’ I tell her. ‘Look at the mess you’ve made of these.’ My gaze travels up her body, the threat in my eyes as well as my words. ‘I’ve a good mind to make you clean them.’ Her eyes widen, her breath hitching, and all the while I’m talking, I’m barely brushing her slick skin. ‘A good mind to shove them into your mouth as we fuck. But then, how would I hear you scream?’
Christ, I want this pussy. Want this girl. Fighting my urge to pin her down and push myself in, I continue with my tease. As much as I want to press her bones against the table and fuck her solidly, I want to build her need for this.For us.
Chapter 8
PAISLEY
‘Look at how wet you are.’ His voice is gravelly, his tone more wonder than admonishment as his gaze flicks from my wet panties to my face. ‘I’ve a good mind to shove them into your mouth as we fuck. But then, how would I hear you scream?’
My God, I think I almost came.
With his accent, I knew his aural would be good, but I couldn’t have guessed the dirty deliciousness of his words.
‘You like the sound of that,’ he asserts, staring at my pussy...my cunt. The word reverberates off the walls of my brain.And my uterus.How can I be so turned on by something that would usually make me cringe?
Yes, I know I work for a porn company, but still.
‘Fuck, look at that,’ he groans, sliding one wet finger against where I’m soaked. I can feel myself pulsing against his finger. Does he see? Can he feel it?
