Page 40 of Devious Obsession
“What’s wrong?” She asks, breathless.
“You’re dressed.” I grab the hem of her sweatshirt and yank it up over her head, throwing it across the room. Her pants are next, I rip them down her legs and she’s a good girl for me, she steps out of them without having to be told.
She blusters a lot, but she loves being obedient. A soft blush blooms across her face when she gives over to her submissive side. She softens and relaxes into me.
It’s not something she does for anyone. She’s always walked around with steel armor covering her heart. Always ready to bolt and hide if needed.
My little chameleon. But there’s no need to blend into the background with me.
Here, in my arms, she’s all vibrant colors.
Scooping her up, I toss her onto the bed. Laughing, she bounces twice before settling.
I climb onto the bed, pushing away the covers mangled from last night’s sleep.
In the years of working with the Volkovs, I’ve found myself in life or death situations. I’ve had bones broken, bullets lodged in my skin. None of that compared to the agony of laying next to her all night and not touching her.
She needed her rest then, she doesn’t now.
Shoving her thighs apart, I settle between them and inhale the sweet smell of her arousal.
The woman is soaked.
“Do you know how wet you are for me?” I rest my hands on her thighs, keeping them spread.
“Artem.”
“Reach down here, feel it.” I raise my eyes to her so there’s no mistaking my order for anything other than what it is.
Slowly, she slides her hand down her body, between her thighs. Her fingertips touch her pussy lips, but then she retracts them.
“No.” I snatch her wrist. “Touch yourself like you’re thinking of me in the middle of the night. Get your fingers wet.”
A low, guttural sound that reminds me of the deep growl a cat gives as a warning before striking with its claws.
But she obeys.
Her finger glides smoothly through her pussy lips. On either side of me her thighs tremble at her own touch.
“Spread your pussy open for me.” I order her and she complies, splaying the outer lips of her pussy open and exposing the soft, wet pink flesh of her inner folds.
“Fuck, Babygirl. You’re being so good for me.” I rub my finger around her clit, not touching it yet. Another shiver runs through her, and she groans.
“Please.”
“Please, what?” I lean in, letting my hot breath wash over her exposed clit. “Please touch you?”
“Yes!”
“Uh, uh, if you’re start making demands, you’ll end up over my knee instead of under my mouth.”
She moans. “Please, please touch me.”
“That’s better.” I touch her again, this time pressing the pad of my finger directly onto her clit and rubbing it in slow circles. She grows wetter.
Not willing to deny myself, I run my tongue through her folds, gathering her sweet dew.
“Oh fuck.” Her body tenses as I rub her clit and tongue fuck her pussy.
