My hands slide up from her ankles to her thighs, then I hook my fingers into the hem of her panties, sliding the fabric down her legs.
“Tasting you.”
Denise whines, shaking her head.
“Uh-uh.” I lightly slap the outside of her thigh. “You said I could do whatever I want and what I want is to taste you.”
She rests her hands on my shoulders to help keep her balance as she lifts her feet to help me completely take off her underwear.
I pocket the lace fabric.
“Lucas,” she groans, head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut and I grin at the sight of me having any effect on her at all. “I need you inside me.”
I shrug, hoisting one of her legs onto my shoulder, and gripping the flesh of her now bare ass to pull her closer to my face.
“I’ll think about it,” I say before diving straight in.
For all the complaining she did, Denise’s hands quickly slide into my hair, nails digging into my scalp.
I wince at the pain and silently pray for more.
“How the hell are you so good at this?” she asks but then her lips pull back. “Actually, don’t answer that.”
I chuckle against her and the sound must reach somewhere deep within her because she tries to squeeze her legs closed. Mypalms come up to meet the inside of her thighs, pushing her further open for me.
I know I should take my time with her. Everything inside me is screaming to do so but not when she tastes this good. Not when I have her right in front of me, thighs desperately trying to clench around my head.
I also know that eating her out while hiding behind my parked car isn’t the most gentlemanly thing I’ve ever done.
She deserves for me to at least open the car door and lay her across my backseat but that’s just the thing. I don’t seem to be able to think logically when it comes to Denise.
It’s like my brain lags and then moves to autopilot. Like my only goal in life is to feel her. Hear her. Taste her. Have her.
It’s not even about only having her physically either. That just happens to be all she’ll allow and to hell that I start complaining about it.
I’m lucky enough for her to even give me the time of day.
My tongue moves desperately, nose brushing against her clit, earning myself the beautiful sound of her moans. I look at her face, not being able to help but smile when I find her eyes squeezed shut, head thrown back.
The tightness in my own stomach intensifies as her legs shake and her hands in my hair grip onto me so tightly that in any other circumstance, I’d be worried that she’d rip my hair out.
“Lucas.”
Her breaths are shallow and frantic—it makes my own hands shake and my mouth work harder against her.
I need it.
I need her to come on my face.
Need her already all fucked out and desperate when I sink my cock into her.
I bring my thumb up to her clit, while my tongue works against her. The way she holds me against her like this is the only time she’s ever afraid to let me go does something to me.
It sets me on fire.
It makes me want to show her that she can have whatever she wants from me, and all she has to do is ask. Me. Not anyone else. I want to be the only thing she needs.
Denise comes on my tongue with an unapologetic moan that can probably be heard from down the street. Her hips rut against my face, warm, sweet juices coating my mouth. And I don’t even bother to try and stop myself from cleaning her up with my tongue.