“Do you like the way that feels?”

I grip her thighs, trying to hold on to my shredded control. “Pretty sure you already know the answer to that question.”

“Mmm, I like the way it feels too.” She rolls her hips, a sly, slightly evil smile tipping up the corner of her mouth. “Don’t come yet if you want my mouth on you.”

For once I keep my mouth shut, aware she’s tormenting me on purpose, and any asshole snark I dish out is going to be met with more of this slow torture. So instead I enjoy the view as Stevie shifts to kneel between my thighs, naked apart from her pretty panties, which I’m likely going to destroy when I finally get my hands on her the way I want to.

Finally, fucking finally, she wraps one hand around my shaft and cups my balls with the other—God bless her for being a multitasker—and bows forward. Her eyes are on me as her tongue peeks out and she drags her wet bottom lip from the base of my shaft to the ridge. She places a barely there kiss at the tip.

Her hair fans out, soft lavender waves cascading over my thighs. She places open-mouth, wet kisses along my shaft. I shudder when she tongues the ridge and groan when the head disappears between her lips. She takes me in a few inches, then pops off, the cool air a shocking contrast to her warm, wet mouth.

“Bishop?” Her voice is like smoke.

I grunt a response, because I’m not sure I’m capable of speaking right now.

“I need your help.” She abandons my balls so she can pull her hair over one shoulder. “Can you hold this for me so it’s not in the way?” She spins her hair around her wrist. “Please?”

I manage words this time. “Anything for you, bae.”

She grins against the head of my erection, and I reach out, unsteady with my excitement as I slide my fingers into her hair and gather it up, twisting it around my own wrist. Once it’s out of the way, she takes me back into her mouth.

She only strokes once or twice before she pops off again, tongue sweeping along the ridge, sucking the head and really, just generally teasing the fuck out of me. “Why don’t you show me what you like, Shippy?”

I cock a brow, and she grins. This time when she takes me in her mouth, I guide her strokes, lifting my hips, pushing deeper, moving her faster. Her hands splay out on my thighs, bracing her weight so I can control how she moves, which is really more than I can handle.

I warn her when I’m about to come, which takes a lot less time than I would like it to. I loosen my hold on her hair when my hips involuntarily jerk. I feel her throat constrict, my whole body tightening up, fingers flexing again as I come with brutal intensity.

As soon as I regain control of my body, I pull her off my cock, grab her by the waist, and flip her over onto her back. I capture her wet, swollen lips, and despite the fact that her mouth tastes like my cock and my orgasm, I sweep inside. She tries to wrap her legs around my waist and rub up on me again, but I shift so my legs are bracketing hers and drop my ass on her thighs, keeping them tight together and preventing any hope she had of friction. “Oh no you don’t. It’s my turn, and I have weeks of torture to make up for.”

CHAPTER 23

MAGIC PEEN

Stevie

In hindsight it might not have been the best plan to pretend Bishop’s dick was an ice cream cone for twenty minutes. Especially after all those weeks of me being near his groin and him not being able to help himself out. I’m banking on the fact that he’s going to want to get in me badly enough that he won’t feel compelled to torture me for too long.

Bishop bites and sucks his way over my collarbone, groaning as he stops to tongue my nipples before he moves lower, tracing my navel.

His rough palms glide up the inside of my thighs, pushing them apart. Everything below the waist clenches as he drags his tongue across his bottom lip. “I can’t wait to tongue fuck an orgasm out of this pussy.”

I groan, because really, what can I say to that? Any kind of fuck at this point would be welcome, and I’ll gladly ride his face to orgasm land. Also, I didn’t really expect the dirty talk or for it to be as much of a turn-on as it is, especially with the way he’s looking at me.

He drops his head, eyes still on mine, lips brushing along the waistband of my panties. At the same time his fingertips follow the edge until he reaches the apex.

He slips his free arm under my thigh, opening me wider and propping himself up on his elbow. “Your panties are damp.” He pinches the material over my clit, grazing it. “Soaked, really.”

He’s not wrong. I’ve been rubbing his shaft over my clit like it was going to make a genie appear and grant me orgasm wishes. Plus, making him come with my mouth, and the knowledge that eventually he would be filling me up, has me pretty damn excited, but still . . . it’s embarrassing to be called out on how aroused I am.

Or maybe it’s a hint. I try to close my legs. “I should freshen up first.”

His hold on my thigh tightens. “Like hell.” He presses his nose against the damp fabric. “You smell like you’re ready to be fucked.”

“Jesus, Bishop. That mouth of yours is filthy.”

His eyes lift to mine in question.

“I like it.”

The crinkle at the corner of his eyes tells me he’s smiling. “I figured you would.” He inhales deeply and turns his head, biting the inside of my thigh.

I wish I’d had the foresight to take my panties off. I want to shove my hands in his hair and grind all over his face. I manage to restrain myself, because I’m highly aware that extra enthusiasm at this point is going to cause me problems. In the form of Bishop dragging this out even more.

He slips a single finger under the edge of my panties. Thank God. I shake with anticipation, like a cunnilingus junkie waiting for a hit of tongue. He moves the fabric over on either side until he’s essentially giving me a vagina wedgie—which seems counterproductive.

Bishop hooks his finger under the fabric at the crest of my pelvis and pulls up, causing the satin to tighten and rub against my clit. I suck in a gasping breath, fighting with my hips not to jerk up. And that’s before he slips a finger from his free hand under the fabric but lower, so his knuckle pushes against my opening.

I moan quietly as every single muscle in my body tightens, and I accidentally manage a Kegel. Based on his lascivious grin, I’m pretty sure he felt that.

He licks along the juncture of my thigh. Over and over, up one side and down the other. Then he sucks the soft, sensitive skin right beside my covered clit, and I think I’m going to die.

I give in, shoving my hands in his hair and trying to force his mouth to move an inch to the right.

Bishop releases the skin with a suctioned, wet pop. His lips brush against the satin right over my clit with the slow shake of his head. “You got something you want to say, bae?”

“Bishop.” I roll my hips, asking for what I want without words.

He chuckles and nuzzles into my panties, licking the wet fabric.

“Oh my God.” I turn my head into the pillow and fight a groan.

“All you have to do is ask, and I’ll give you what you want.”

“I want you to suck my goddamn clit.”

That earns me another dark, low chuckle. “I bet you do.” He bites the satin over my magic bean and pulls it away with his teeth. “But you need to ask nicely.”