Page 37 of The Betrayal
“Make a mess with your hand and vibrator?” Tongue in cheek I rock up on the balls of my feet.
“In your dreams baby,” she teases, and I let out a low chuckle.
I follow behind her, eyes on her peachy ass in her high waisted black jeans. She slips into the laundry room, and for some reason I follow her.
Shoving her bedding into the washing machine, I lean against the door just watching.
“What’s the matter? Want a lesson on how to work the washer?” she spins, tongue slipping out the corner of her mouth, teeth pinching the thing I want running up the underside of my cock.
“I’m just thinking how pretty you’ll look whilst I eat your wet little pussy.” Risky move, I know but I can’t curb my tongue around her.
Her eyes bug out. Her lips open as her jaw falls lax.
“Keat…” she pants, her eyes roaming over me.
I step closer.
“We said no more…”
Pushed up against her tight little body, my neck cranes down at her, my eyes burning into hers.
“I know, but you’re just too much of a temptation,” I whisper, my lips hovering over hers.
“We promised.” She moans as I curl my fingers round the base of her throat. She likes it. Her pulse dances underneath my fingertips.
“Promises were made to be broken.” Skimming my hands down her body, both curling round her hips and I lift her onto the washing machine.
“Not our promises,” her hands press against the cool metal of the washer.
“One last taste…” I rasp, widening her legs and slipping between them as my lips brush against hers.
“One last…” she whispers and the doorbell rings.
And that’s all it takes for her to snap back into reality. Shoving me off her, she jumps down.
“You and your dirty mouth,” she scowls, skipping out the laundry room and down towards the door.
Fuck it.
My cock aches between my legs and I shut the laundry door to give myself a moment.
Or five.
Walking back out and into the kitchen, I see Lucy and Ari sitting at the deep oak dining table.
“Morning,” I greet her, and switch the coffee machine on. “Drinks?”
“We should really…” Ari starts.
“We would love one,” Lucy answers before Arizona can even get her words out. My back is to them so I smirk.
“Oh, Arizona,” I look at her slowly over my shoulder, “don’t forget about your bedding in the washer.”
She stays mute, pushing away from the table and into the laundry room.
“Do you take cream? Milk? Sugar?” I ask Lucy.
“Cream, no sugar,” she says sweetly.