Page 82 of Let's Kiss and Tell

“Dick,” she says.

I roll my eyes. “Dick.”

Lucy squints. “Cock.”

I pause. There’s an eagerness in her eyes as she waits for my next move. I’m not a prude, but my resistance is making me start to feel like one. My jaw muscle works overtime as I debate whether to continue whatever game we’re playing here.

“Cock,” I repeat.

“Use it in a sentence,” she tells me.

I bite down, grinding my back teeth against one another. I’m certain Lucy is expecting me to surrender. To say uncle and admit that she’s right, but I don’t want her thinking I’m incapable of dirty talk. I’ll never be able to have Lucy the way I want her, so the least I can do is show her what she’s missing.

“I want to feel my cock inside of you,” I say, my voice lowering, and Lucy’s breath hitches.

Her eyes are wide, and this is when I expect her to break outinto one of her infectious smiles and call it a day, but she swallows instead.

“Again,” she says, and I oblige.

“Do you have any idea how hard my cock is?”

Lucy’s breaths deepen, and I see her ever so subtly lick her lips.

“Another one,” she says softly.

Suddenly the car feels smaller, more intimate than it is. I can sense Lucy’s desire to continue. She doesn’t want whatever we’re doing to end, and I don’t think I do either.

I make sure my eyes are on hers, that she can see me.

“My cock is throbbing for you, Lucy.”

Lucy shifts in her seat, and I catch her rubbing her thighs together. “Clit,” she says.

I huff. There’s something about Lucy that completely arouses me in a way I’ve never experienced before. Everything feels so hot and consensual, like we’re testing the limits together.

“I’ve been dying to suck that sweet little clit of yours,” I say, and the words surprise even me. I don’t usually say things like this. In fact, I’veneversaid anything like this. But it just feels so natural and so right when I’m with Lucy.

“Pussy.” She leans in a little closer, and it takes everything in me to not touch her. She keeps her eyes on mine, not looking away for a second. I do the same, worried that if our eye contact breaks, so does this moment.

“Is that pussy wet for me?”

“More,” she barely whispers.

I inch closer and move my mouth to her ear. “I want to feel how wet that pussy is,” I say, and I feel her tremble. “I want to taste it. I want to feel it clenching around my fingers.”

Her forehead collapses onto my shoulder. “You’re making me wet,” she whispers.

I frown, not sure what word I’m supposed to say. “Lucy, I—”

“No, Marsh,” she breathes. “I’m telling you how wet I am.”

I pull back and look at Lucy; her eyes are big and desperate, and she now appears tormented that her own game has been used against her.

“How wet?” I ask.

“Feel for yourself,” she says, and my dick twitches.

“Lucy, we—”