Page 127 of Bad Attitude
But none of that matters now. Not with where his mouth is.
He presses his face into me, tongue pushing into my hole, his beard prickling the smooth skin of my labia. And he groans as he licks me, like a man taking a drink after too long in the desert.
“God, I love the taste of you,” he murmurs against me. “I’m going to feast. You do what you want; I’m going to be a while.”
I let out a sound that might be aneep, but it doesn’t seem to faze him. He pushes his tongue back inside me, completely ignoring my clit, like he means what he says: that it’s my taste he wants, not my pleasure. He licks everywhere, finding my clit often enough that it keeps me on the edge, then flirting with my opening and back again. Being robbed of my sight just makes it all the more intense, and my hips have developed a mind of their own, desperately seeking the friction he’s denying me. After being tormented for so long, it’s not enough. I want to come, and Declan is skilled enough to make it happen; he’s proven that already.
So he's doing this on purpose.Punishingme.
“Please…” I beg at last, my pride shot. “Please, Declan.”
“Please what, little hellcat?”
He knows damn well what. “Please let me come.”
“Didn’t you say you didn’t want this?”
Uh… I might’ve made a comment in that direction. “I don’t remember. Please, may I come?”
“And you didn’t want to be tied up.” He slides a finger inside me, and I’m so wet it goes in easily. He finds my g-spot, curling his fingertip against it, and my back arches. It’s so good, but it’s still not enough.
“Hellcat?” he prompts.
Did he ask me something? If he did, I can’t remember what it was and I don’t care, either. “Please, Declan. Please let me come.”
The torment is deliberate. He’s such abastard.
His finger rubs inside me as he licks over my clit, once, twice. Then he pauses. “Didn’t you call me a bastard?”
I wail my frustration. Did I say that out loud? I’m certain I didn’t. “No?”
“I think you did.”
In my head, sure. To his face? Uh… maybe. Probably. “I’m sorry.”
“You already apologized,” he reminds me. “Remember what I said?”
Fuck if I know.
Oh yes… something about me not yet being sorry enough.
Shit.
“Please, Declan. I’mreallysorry. Please let me come!”
He sucks my clit into his mouth, lashing it back and forth with his tongue, and my orgasm leaps forward, the edge rushing toward me.
Then he stops.
“Do you know what I like?” he asks, as if it’s the time to discuss our favorite colors.
“Jesusfuck. Would youpleaselet me come?”
“I like hearing you beg.”
“I’m begging, you bastard. I’m fucking begging.” My whole body is tense, my nipples are aching, my brain is mush, and my nails are digging into my palms.
He rests his forehead against my thigh. “Didn’t you ask me to let you up?”
