Page 53 of A Bossy Roommate
He stands, strawberry (slightly mangled) in his mouth, a small smile playing on his lips. The strawberry is covered in cream and my wetness. Slowly, he places the fruit against my lips. We remain like that, looking into each other’s eyes.
“Lick it,” he grumbles, without dropping it.
I lick over the skin. The cream is delicious. It tastes like vanilla, and me. He watches me lick it and eat it, as the warmth of his touch lingers on my skin.
“Atta girl.”
I swallow.
He leans in, growling, “I bet you want my attention on your clit, don’t you?”
With a happy nod, I whisper, “Yeah…”
“I got you, baby.” He smirks, his long and stunning eyelashes framing his eyes. “You know exactly who this sweet pussy belongs to.”
“You. Only you.”
Nodding, he traces his tongue back down to my pussy, licking off the remains of the cream on the way, evading direct contact with my clit again, torturing me, running to my entrance, and licking across it.
“Damn right,” he growls and fills me with his tongue.
I gasp. With thrusting motions in and out, he tongue-fucks me, making me clench, making me moan, until I’m a breathing mess. He licks his way back up, hovering his wet tongue just over my clit that’s still covered in cream. I try to push my hips up, but to no avail.
I can feel him grinning at my despair.
When I whimper his name in agony, he gives in and—oh, so lightly—brushes over my clit, licking parts of the cream off, causing me to jerk. He brushes over it again. And again. He proceeds to circle it in soft lazy circles, cleaning me, eating me, as I continue to gasp and moan and jerk and feel the orgasm building with each caress.
“You taste delicious,” he growls in between another set of delicious licks.
“Carter…” I somehow manage to respond.
“I’m not talking about the frosting. It’s your taste that I love.” Just when I’m about to stumble over the edge, Carter gets up. “Don’t come just yet.”
“Whoa….”
“I want you to come on my tip.”
His idea stops any lingering protests. In fact, myentirebeing likes his idea. He hovers in front of me, placing his inked arms on either side of me against the wall, caging me in. His shaft is teasing my clit as he moves his hips against me in rhythmical motions, getting us both off, causing my orgasm to start knocking at the door.
“I’m so close…”
His eyes connect with mine. “Not yet. Hold on a bit longer for me.”
He’s such a controlling jerk. Ahotcontrolling jerk.
“Okay.” Obviously, I’ve lost my mind, simply agreeing to that, especially now that I’m teetering on the edge, poised to erupt with the slightest touch. “Please, Carter, I can’t…”
I moan even louder at being suddenly filled with his tip again.
It’s just as intense—and just as frustrating—as it was before. If not more. He simply refuses to push himself all the way in. I spread my legs farther apart, hoping to cause him to slide in deeper. Carter’s mouth is all over my throat and shoulders, nipping and sucking on the sensitive flesh. I grip the sides of the pillow I’m sitting on, twisting it each time he pushes and pulls in and out of me by just a fraction of an inch.
I’ve never been this frustrated and never this turned on. Yes, we’ve had sex before, but his control brings a new level of intimacy, closeness, and horniness I haven’t experienced before. My pussy is drenching his hard tip and squeezing it uncontrollably. Wetness is pooling on the pillow under my ass. With shaky movements, I try to rotate my hips, and try to steer his tip deeper.
“Stay still,” he orders.
“Carter….”
“The last fucking time. Stay fucking still,” he grumbles sternly. “Don’t move, or I will have to fuck you. I only have so much willpower.”