Page 6 of Thrown to the Wolves

“Oh, you don’t have to beg.” And with that, she sinks to her knees, skimming her hands over my wet thighs for balance, and tips her face back up to see my reaction. “Can I?” she asks.

“Honey, you can do whatever you want.” I flatten my hands on the wall to brace myself, and then add, “I mean, whatever you want to do that is actually possible in this tiny fucking shower—ohh.”

She’s been spreading my pussy open while I’ve been talking, and her tongue is a damn delight from the second she lays it against me. She teases me in slow, wet circles around my clit, eyes never leaving mine, and then she laves right up and down, making every nerve in my cunt come alive.

“Good girl.” I take a handful of her wet, chestnut hair as she grins up at me and help her return to suckling my clit. My knees almost give out. “Yeah, right there—that’s it, right there?—”

Her response is muffled, but I think it was something along the lines of “Glad you approve.”

She keeps working her magic on me, licking and sucking, maneuvering a finger inside, then two. Her other hand slides up through the water and tugs hard at my nipple, sending electricity right through me. I’m already so fucking close—I’ve never needed release this badly in my life.

But she’s not going to give it to me that easy. No, Scarlett seems determined to edge me into insanity.

And I’m pretty determined to let her.

My head falls back against the wall as her tongue dances, her fingers finding a regular rhythm inside me. Her hair is soft and slick in my palm as I push her face gently into me. “Come on, honey,” I pant down at her. “Eat up.”

Her tongue swipes side-to-side across my clit and she hums in response as my hips jerk, clearly enjoying her work. She works both of her hands now, one on my tits and one inside me, stroking experimentally until she finds exactly the right spot that makes me moan.

“Oh, fuck, that’s it, just like that,” I choke out, rocking against her mouth. I can feel my orgasm building deep inside me, inevitable and inexorable. But Scarlett likes to play dirty. She slows down again, teasing me mercilessly until I want to growl in frustration.

And then she pulls her mouth away from me altogether, looking up from between her soaked bangs. “Come on my face,” she says, her voice dark and deep.

“I’d be fucking delighted to,” I grit out from between clenched teeth, “as soon as you—yeah, that.” She’s put her mouth back to better use than talking, her tongue back on my clit again, swirling and flicking and sucking until I’m a mindless tangle of nerves, reduced to incoherent moans against the wet tiles. Her fingers delve back inside me and curl, hitting that spot like a bullseye, massaging until I think my legs are going to give out.

My climax builds and builds, threatening to crest any second, and she pushes in deep, her tongue relentless as she drives me right over the edge. I come with a hoarse cry, my back arching against the tiles as I contract around her fingers. Scarlett doesn’t let up, maintaining the delicious torment until the waves of pleasure ebb, leaving me trembling and gasping for air.

“Get up here,” I gasp out, still pulsing with the aftershocks, and I yank her up, shove her back against the tiles, and stick my tongue in her mouth just to taste myself.

And now I need to stick my tongue elsewhere.

I want to taste the neatly-trimmed little pussy I’m petting, need it so bad I might just beg for it. But I don’t have to. I get as far as, “Can I—” and she’s wriggling around with pleasure, nodding hard, rubbing herself shamelessly against my thigh until I squat down and hold her hips firmly back against the shower wall. I pull one of her legs over my shoulder and look up at her gorgeous face.

“I’ll hold you up,” I tell her. “You just ride me, honey.” And then I dive in, encouraging her to do exactly what I just said, to slide that sweet, wet pussy all over my face. I suck her down, drowning in her along with the shower water, gripping her tight to make sure she’s safe as she rides out her pleasure.

I can feel her shuddering on top of me as she bucks and glides over my mouth. I get a finger between those bubble cheeks of her ass and experimentally massage her tight little asshole.

“Oh God,” she gasps, arching her back as she pants harder and harder, her body moving urgently against my face, her hands fisting in my hair. She comes hard, flooding my tongue, and she tastes exactly like she looks: lush and darkly sweet.

I eat on slowly for another minute while she comes down from the high, let her get her feet back under her, and then I stand up and kiss her again, breathe in her still-slowing gasps, enjoy the dazed look in those gorgeous eyes.

For a few blissful moments, we simply hold each other, breasts sliding against each other, the water raining down around us. But then, as the haze of pleasure begins to clear, something shifts in Scarlett’s expression as she turns her face to look into mine.

Something almost like…

Hate?

I blink and the expression is gone, if it was even there in the first place. But suddenly, I’m reminded of who I am—of the world I inhabit and the dangers that lurk around every corner.

Scarlett pulls back, her expression unreadable once more. “That was…nice,” she says.

Nice?

I had her fucking world shaking.

But I just nod, still taken aback by that glimpse of something darker lurking beneath the surface. I wonder exactly what secrets lie behind those haunting eyes of hers.

We step out of the shower pretty soon after that, the intensity of our encounter still reverberating through my body, even if Scarlett’s gone quiet.