After the Fall (The Fallen Men 4) - Page 70

She hummed long and low, vibratin’ around me as she sucked my crown, swirlin’ her tongue like I was an ice cream cone.

The sight of her like that, the lady gone to harlot just for me, set my blood to boiling. It was heady, the power of it, to see a woman step beyond her inhibitions to please you and please herself.

“Touch yourself while you suck me,” I ordered huskily as she laved my shaft with her pink tongue. “Want you drippin’ in the grass by the time I’m ready to fuck you.”

She moaned because my woman loved my filthy mouth.

I tipped the champagne again, carefully pouring it down my cock so it spilled into her mouth. The carbonation buzzed against my skin, and I cursed viciously as she sucked hard, wanton slurping sounds coming from her eager mouth.

“So gorgeous sucking my cock like that,” I told her, thrusting in and out shallowly just to watch her cheeks hollow and fill with my flesh. “Love it when you worship my dick like that.”

“I do,” she panted, pulling off to press a kiss to the tip, then lick it hard with the flat of her tongue. “Sometimes, I feel like a fanatic. When I get my hands on you, your taste in my mouth, my name on your lips, I could overdose on devout ecstasy.”

I drew my cock in and out of her mouth, forcing her to keep it open wantonly, loving the power she gave me in lettin’ me use her like that.

The base of my spine tingled, and my balls drew up, warnin’ me I was goin’ spill more than champagne in her mouth if I indulged any longer. So, I pulled out and off her, leanin’ on my forearms in the grass between her legs.

“Spread those pretty legs wider,” I ordered as I popped the cork and tipped the heavy bottle over her beautiful skin. “I have a thirst for somethin’ sweeter than champagne.”

She shivered at the cold, then gasped at the feel of my warm tongue lappin’ it up, following a drop all the way down to her sex where I baptized her with more sparkling wine.

“Smell like flowers and taste like honey,” I rasped as I moved my tongue down the seam of her groin and then up the other side. She squirmed, so I banded a hand over her hips. “Keep still while I drink my fill.”

But she came almost as soon as I wrapped my lips around her clit and sucked, buckin’ her hips and tearin’ out the grass between her clenchin’ fingers. I surged up before she was done, thrustin’ into her still ripplin’ sex and drivin’ her climax higher.

The feel of her in my arms like that, completely givin’ herself over to the pleasure that I gave her was better than any artificial high or drink, richer than ambrosia.

“Love comin’ inside you knowin’ there’s no protection against makin’ a baby together,” I whispered in her ear as she spasmed around me. “Want to come in you so deep, you feel it in your womb.”

“God, King, yes,” she screamed, her throat straining, head thrown back, hair spillin’ over the grass as she came again right on the heels of the first, her orgasm wrackin’ through her and into me so I had no choice but to join her.

Burrowing my head in her neck, I clamped my teeth over her neck, tongue to her flutterin’ pulse, and spilled myself inside her with a savage growl.

I flopped to my back and dragged her over me, our skin slick with sweat and sticky with the dregs of champagne, the rest of the bottle abandoned, liquid lost to the earth, but I didn’t care for the drunk of booze after the intoxication of fucking my woman in the grass as elemental as Adam and Eve.

Tangled together, naked and free in the clearin’ over the ocean, only the sound of sea birds and water shatterin’ on rock to punctuate the silence, I wondered if this was paradise or as close to it as a human could get.

Cress nuzzled into my chest, peeling open her heavy eyes to look at me. “Being pure is so overrated.”

Laughter coursed through me so hard, I shouted it to the sky. “Jesus, babe, you are too fuckin’ cute.”

“It’s true. Why would you ever forgo pleasure like that?”

“Beats me, but I didn’t grow up the way you did with God watchin’ your every step.”

She pursed her lips. “This is true. I guess, now, I just don’t care if God is watching. If I were him, I’d have ripped open the sky to get a peek at what goes on between us in bed.”

“Corrupted through and through. From pious good girl to thinkin’ God’s a big ole perv.”

She laughed, and the sound moved over me warmer than the sun.

Tags: Giana Darling The Fallen Men Erotic
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