"Trying to? No," I murmured. "If things happen, they happen."
I was almost certain he wasn't going to die from me grinding against him. If he did, he was more fragile than he looked.
"I'll come in my pants," he grunted. "Or…" He pressed a hand to my hip and pulled me back onto him even harder.
"I did say you don't have self-control," I teased.
"Fuck self-control." He slid his hand over my hips, between my legs, rubbing the side of his fingers against the top of my thighs.
I groaned as he grazed against my clit.
"You sure I'm the one without self-control?" He rubbed harder.
"I have my moments," I admitted.
"Of course you do."
I missed his hand when he moved it away from my pussy, but a moment later he pushed it down the front of my leggings and panties. His calloused fingers found my clit and stroked.
"I feel how much you hate me," he said, pressing a finger inside me. "You hate me so much, you're wet as hell."
"Ironic, isn't it?" I asked.
He grunted a laugh. "If you say so. Maybe you like me more than you say you do."
"Definitely not," I replied. "I know an asshole when I feel one."
He took that as his cue to grind his cock against my ass, pressing against my rear hole, only fabric between us.
"Me too," he said. "I have to say you have a delicious ass."
"Do I now?"
"Yep." He grabbed the waistband of my leggings and panties and shoved them down halfway to my knees.
I didn't know what he was doing when he wriggled down, not until he licked my ass, then bit it. I managed to contain my squeal so I wouldn't wake Leif.
"I was right," Woody said, licking my other ass cheek. "Delicious. You smell fucking good too."
He bent my knee, opening me out to him, before running his tongue over the inside of my leg and up to my pussy. "Don't tell me you haven't been dreaming of this."
"I'd be lying if I said I hadn't." I had, more times than I could count. Too many, under the circumstances. Given the past between us, should I let him anywhere near me, much less my pussy?
"Woody," I whispered.
"Don't. We can talk about it later."
I wanted to argue, but he was lapping at my clit, applying the perfect amount of pressure to the sensitive bundle of nerves. Coherent thought fled my brain, replaced with one thing, need.
"That's so good," I groaned.
He hummed his agreement and went on licking. Sucking gently. Then harder.
"Don't stop," I moaned. I thought he might stop to spite me, but he didn't.
If anything, he sucked harder. He pressed a couple of fingers inside me while he sucked, stroking my insides and driving me closer to oblivion.
His fingers and mouth were magic. Talented. Rough, but attentive to every moan, each gasp that slipped from my lips. He was a quick learner.