Page 92 of The Wild Man
His answer is lame, and I let him know this.
“Good?” I ask, my tone incredulous. “This is divine. It’s perfection in the form of squished apples and cinnamon. Good is what you would say about ice cream or an everything bagel.”
He gives me a look that suggests I’ve lost my mind. He’s the one who’s gone insane.
I lift my spoon to bring another bite of perfection to my mouth, but a drop falls on my chest. I drop the utensil back in my bowl so I can use a finger to swipe off the mess, but before I can, I’m stopped when the bowl is suddenly no longer in my hand. Wild Man has snatched it away and he puts both of our dishes on the coffee table. He turns more toward me, his hand going up my legs to my knees. He lifts one and puts it between him and the couch. His hands go up further to my waist, and then I’m being dragged down the couch.
“What are you doing?” I ask, my breath stuttering in my throat.
“Made mess.” His eyes lock on the drop of applesauce, which conveniently landed at the top of my cleavage. “I clean.”
One of his hands goes under me, arching my back. He leans over me, dropping his mouth to my cleavage. I let out a husky moan when his tongue darts out and swipes away the mess.
“Mmm…,” he groans. “You right. Divine. My favorite.”
I laugh lightly, but the sound ends on another moan when he swirls his tongue deeper between my breasts. I arch my back more and lace my fingers through his hair, pulling his face closer.
“More, Wild Man.”
I’m wearing a thin tank top, so when he grabs the front of it and yanks, the material rips easily. I’ve already taken my shower for the night, so I’m braless. My boobs bounce free, the tips already turning into hard little points. Wild Man growls, the deep sound making goosebumps pebble on my skin.
He takes one of my nipples between his lips and sucks hard, scraping his teeth over the tip. He pops that one free and goes to the other one.
“Oh, God, yes. That feels so good,” I moan.
Wild Man lifts his head, and I look down. His lips are wet from his kisses.
“My momor,” he rumbles.
“Yes. Always.”
His eyes flare and he sits up. The shorts I’m wearing are ripped down my legs, along with my panties. Once I’m naked, he takes one of my legs and hooks it over the back of the couch. He places my other foot down on the floor. I’m spread wide open, and I feel my juices leaking out of me onto the couch.
“My pussy,” he grates.
“Yes,” I reply, my voice broken from the onslaught of desire wreaking havoc on my body. This man drives me insane with lust.
He slides a finger between my folds, and I lift my hips to meet the touch. He barely grazes my clit before he’s sliding back down and pushing the tip of his finger in my hole. I whimper, the sound needy and desperate.
“Please, Phenix.”
As I knew it would, his eyes darken at hearing me use his full name. He thrusts his finger inside as far as it will go, giving me just what I wanted.
“Two fingers, momor?”
“Yes,” I moan.
He pulls out and rams two fingers inside. I cry out at the intrusion, lifting my hips off the couch. He thrusts and retreats, driving me crazy with my need for even more.
“Three? Want three fingers fuck you?”
I open my eyes, dazed at how easily this man controls my body.
“Or want mouth, eating pussy?”
I lean up on one elbow and fist a handful of his hair. I yank his head down toward my pussy. “Both. Give me both, Phenix.”
With a muted growl, he falls on me. His mouth attacks my pussy like it’s the last thing he’ll ever consume. With a cry, my arm gives out and I fall backward. The foot that’s on the floor is lifted when Wild Man aggressively shoves my leg back, lifting my ass off the couch. I’m as spread open as I can be with a crazed man feasting on my pussy.