Page 65 of Devilish Debt
Or feel.
Like a bull shark no one needs to be swimming near.
“Programs running,” Zero announces upon the removal of his shirt.“I can let it do its thing,” he swiftly shifts to the discarding of his shorts, “while I doyou.”
“Not worried about who might be listening to us fuck?”
“Nope.”Another unbothered shrug is delivered seconds before his bottoms hit the ground.“Let ‘em.”
Something tells me casual screwing isn’t exactly new to him.
Nor is being heard.
However, I can’t ignore the idea that he doesn’twantwhat we have to be that fleeting…or that he’s not the only one who wants more than we’ve agreed to deliver.
I wade my way to the middle of the pool, giving the younger mancurrentlyin my life, plenty of room to jump in.
Which he does.
Cannonball style with a shit eating grin.
His innocent laughter not only ignites mine, it convinces the damn thing to grow in volume and intensity the moment he makes an attempt to grab me.“Kangaroos can swim.”He lunges towards my figure a second time prompting me to push backwards towards the shallow end to avoid being captured.“Like this.”All attempts to get me into his arms are briefly paused to present a doggy paddle motion.“And then they use their tails,” Zero wiggles his ass as though he has one, “to help propel themandsteer.”
“You look like a windup toy.”
“I prefer being a fuck toy.” The admission successfully stuns me enough to become caught by the wrist.“Especially for a slutty little princess…”
One yank is all it takes to have his mouth smashing against mine.
The forceful action is cute and clumsy and difficult to resist – not that I’m trying.
Our lips spread apart in tandem, yet his tongue impatiently sprints to find mine.
To faintly brush it.
Tease.
Tempt it into following for more while his hands hungrily skim along my wet curves until they can gawkishly grab my ass.
Hoist me up.
Press me against his hardening cock that my clit insists we greet by grinding against it.
Zero greedily groans louder and lets lash after lash after lash do the reprimanding his words can’t.
Tangling my arms around his neck grants my fingers access to gently claw at the nape of his neck.
The edge of his hairline and scalp.
Jawline.
Eagerness to have more and feel more is what leads to me being blindsided when my head is yanked backwards by a fistful of my hair.
Captured by another set of familiar lips.
Punished with fast and ferocious twists executed so steadily my mind starts rapidly spinning.
Struggling to keep up.
