NAUGHTY MATCH
Episode 3
……………..
The man sitting across from me was, inarguably, my best friend in the world but my patience with his bullshit had been gradually wearing thin over the course of the evening.
“Look man, all I’m saying is that I think you should do it.”
“I already know what you think, Cam.” I calmly took a sip of my beer, annoyed at how shitty it was. “You haven’t shut the f**k up about it all night.”
“Dude, f**k you!” He leaned closer to me across the table, his face getting serious. “You have a major opportunity here and I don’t understand why you won’t take it.”
“I don’t expect you to understand, man.”
He ran a swift hand through his dark hair. “Just because I’m not some artsy pretty boy like you doesn’t mean I can’t understand artistic integrity and shit.”
Cam tried to play it off as sarcasm but I knew this was a touchy subject for him. 25 long years of friendship had made us extremely close, but my more recent success and big bump in socioeconomic status had rocked the foundation of our camaraderie a bit.
“You know it’s not about that, Cam.”
“So what the f**k is it about, then?” He raised his hand, signaling our waitress to bring us another round of drinks. “You’re turning down a quarter of a million dollars because of your pride.”
I sighed, staring down at my foamy beer. “It’s not about pride, man. It’s about dignity. What the f**k would I look like making some commissioned piece of shit for some rich asshole who
couldn’t give a real f**k about my art?” My voice raised a little, making some of the hipsters at the table next to us to sneak a few glances our way.
“I get it man, I do. It’s just that the Dex I knew five years ago would have sold his left nut for twenty- five G’s.” He laughed, shaking his head at me.
“The Dex you knew five years ago was a couch- surfing dickhead who lived off cigarettes and instant noodles.” I thought back to those days somewhat fondly. “I would have sold my left nut for a turkey sandwich.”
Cameron lit up a cigarette, offering it to me after a couple puffs. I declined with a shake of my head. “I can’t become a sellout this early in my career, Cam.” I chuckled. “You’ve got to wait a couple more decades for that.”
Seemingly, he got the hint, saying nothing else on the subject. Instead he leaned back in his chair looking behind me, presumably checking out some woman seated at the bar. I didn’t even bother to turn around. There was no use. It didn’t matter who the hell she was, if her name wasn’t Rosaline Reed I couldn’t force myself to give a shit about what she looked like.
“Stop being a f*****g creep, dude.”
“What? A man can’t look?” Cam’s eyes lazily wandered back to me, not even bothering to look ashamed.
I didn’t reply. “Let’s get the f**k out of here,” I said, standing up and pulling two twenties out of my pocket. Just enough to cover our shitty beers and a healthy tip for the waitress. “This place blows. Why the hell did you want us to come here?”
“Some guy at work told me this place was running rampant with hot yuppie girls.” His eyes wandered back toward the bar one more time before we headed towards the door. “And he was not wrong.”
Saturdays and Sundays were Rosie’s days off. I never forced her to dry clean my clothes, go pick
up my groceries, or do any of the other ridiculous shit people forced their assistants to do. I also couldn’t seem to find it in me to force her into the studio on the weekends either, even though those were still workdays for me. While I couldn’t help but crave her calming presence, I hoped she was out exploring Miami, taking full advantage of the amazing culture and history present in the city.
A part of me knew she wasn’t, though. I had the feeling she was cooped up in her little
apartment “reading and watching Netflix,” just as she said were her plans before she went home on Friday.
I couldn’t quite figure out if I loved or hated that. On one hand, I loved the thought of Rosie, sweet and comfortable, enjoying her innocent entertainment. It made me think about being with her, curled around her sweet, warm body, watching her bright eyes light up as she scanned the pages of her favorite novel.
The other part of me, though, a much larger part, wanted to see her flourish under the
fluorescent lights of the Miami city streets. I longed to see her dancing and laughing and loving, simply reveling in the pleasure of being alive. I wanted to see her brash and infinitely open to the world, and to me.
In the few weeks since our first meeting, Rosie had yet to offer me more than mere glimpses into the inside of her mind. We had conversations, sure, many of them discussing art and life while imparting little nuggets of unexpected wisdom unto each other. And while I could easily
distinguish her true nature, good and pure and beautifully inquisitive, I still knew next to nothing about her, a fact that I was doing my damnedest to change.
I couldn’t help but be shocked about my recent revelations. I’d never felt so strongly about anyone so quickly before. I’d definitely had my fair share of women— some in short bursts of lust, lasting only long enough for a quick f**k, and a few longer, slightly more passionate affairs— and I appreciated and respected all of them for what they were. Many even proved to be great muses, sources of inspiration that got me through ruts of inactive imagination, but the majority of them were simply a means to an end and the desire to know them as anything other than
temporary flings was almost completely nonexistent.
My interest in Rosie was completely different. While I still desired nothing more than to have her n***d and wanting, spread out under me, the desire to know her and have her know me in return, was just as strong as the unflinching lust.
Thoughts of Rosie with all of her carefully placed walls and hidden desires I desperately wanted to bring to fruition filled me with something that had been severely lacking from my life for some time.
Inspiration.
********
Dex
One sleepless night after my sudden burst of inspiration and I was left with a mostly finished painting and a deep, abiding urge to see Rosie. It had been two days since I saw her last and my need to set eyes on her, to take in those bright, expressive eyes and her supple body was beginning to overwhelm me.
I couldn’t show up to her place uninvited like a f*****g creep, that would set our admittedly fragile relationship up in flames and I couldn’t risk losing her. Not yet. Not before I really got the chance to have her as my own.
If I couldn’t go to her and I didn’t have the strength to stay away completely, I would have to come up with some kind of compromise. Since sending her a goddamn letter was out of the question and I wasn’t about to send her some overly impersonal email or text message, my next best option was to call her. At least that way even if I couldn’t see her beautiful face, I would be able to hear her voice.
After thinking up some half- cocked excuse about missing files, I calmly dialed her number. After the phone rang a few times, my chest tightened at the thought of her not picking up. It was mid-
morning Sunday, certainly not prime time. Rosie didn’t seem like the type to sleep in long hours, but maybe she was recovering from a night out. Maybe she was catching breakfast with friends.
Maybe she was laid up in bed with some asshole. I grit my teeth at the thought, my fingers
tightening their grip around my phone, there was no f*****g way I was going to follow that train of thought. My possessive feelings for her were too strong to even entertain the thought of her with someone else. So I wouldn’t do it, not unless I wanted to drive myself to certain insanity.
“Hello.” Rosie’s voice sounded tired.
“Hey, Rosie. Sorry for calling you on a Sunday.” I stammered out my lie, “I was just wondering if you knew where the contact files for Grayson Contemporary were? I wanted to personally get in touch with Carrie in the morning.”
All of a sudden she sounded exasperated. “Really, Dex?” she growled out my name, a light, angry sound that I couldn’t help but smile at. “You called me during the weekend. On my day off. Just
to ask me about some damn file?”
I should have felt guilty, I should have stammered out an apology and hung up but I couldn’t. Not when I was in the midst of getting her so fired up.
“Isn’t that exactly what I hired you for?”
“You’re kidding me right?”
I prodded her more. “You’re my assistant, Rosie. You’re supposed to be at my goddamn beck and call.” I was obviously f*****g around, but she didn’t need to know that, not yet.
“Dex…” she trailed off with a sigh, suddenly sounding even more tired than she had at the beginning of our short conversation.
That concerned me. I’d wanted to rile her up a bit, get her fiery enough to tell me off a little. I didn’t want to genuinely frustrate her and I definitely didn’t want her exhaustion to be caused by my bullshit.
“Hey, you alright, kid?”
She sighed again. “I’m fine, Dex, I’m just…” She paused. “I’m just really not in the mood to do this with you today.”
Of course she’d said things like this to me before during our little bouts of banter but her tone and the dismal cadence of her voice gave me pause.
Then I heard her sniffle.
“F**k, Sweetheart.” I was instantly angry at myself. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
I was cursing myself, fearing I’d gone too far this time. I knew nothing I said was too offensive or enough to make the conversation this emotionally charged. I still couldn’t help but feel guilty
that it was my prodding and smartass remarks that pushed her over the edge.
“No.” She sniffled again, her sweet voice thick with exhaustion. “It’s not you, Dex. I’m just having a really crappy couple of days.” Rosie barely got the words out before I heard her softly sobbing on the other end.
Hearing her cries and imagining her beautiful face contorted in pain and running with tears had me feeling about eight different levels of anger. I was angry at whoever or whatever caused my sweet girl such sadness, pissed off at myself for exacerbating it, and f*****g furious at the thought that I wasn’t there to comfort her.
I didn’t have the time, nor the patience to deconstruct those feelings or feel sorry for myself. I needed to be with her. I needed to hold her, help her, and show her I was there.
I was grabbing my keys and making my way to my car before I could utter another word.
“I’m on my way, Rosie. Just hold tight.”
“Dex, you really don’t need to- ”
“Give me ten minutes,” I cut her off before she had a chance to protest again. There was nothing that could keep me from her now. Not even her denial.
With the exception of some slightly overgrown grass, Rosie’s apartment building looked exactly as it had the last time I was there. Trying not to think about the events that took place that night, I hurriedly made my way up to the building, quickly realizing I couldn’t get in through the locked front door. Neither did I know which apartment she lived in, which meant I would have to call
her again but I didn’t want to give Rosie the chance to turn me away so I needed to think of some other way to get inside.
“Who the hell are you?” A woman’s voice startled me out of my thoughts.
I turned around towards her, taking in the pretty woman with a curled lip looking at me with suspicion. “Uh…”
……….
” if trying break in, you should know that the most valuable thing in this entire shitty building is the building manager’s Persian cat.” She crossed her arms across her chest. “And that thing is already hanging on by a thread.”
“No. I uh…” I wasn’t exactly sure how to reply but I didn’t want to seem like a creep. “I need to get inside to check on my friend. Maybe you know her? Rosaline Reed.”
The woman’s eyes narrowed a bit and she pursed her red- painted lips. “What’s your name?”
“Dex Quinn, I’m her boss.”
Her eyes went wide. “The artist? Holy shit!”
The egotistical prick in me couldn’t help but soak up her admiration for a bit, I loved being recognized, but I needed to focus on the task at hand.
So I lied.
“She called me earlier and she sounded sick so I figured I would come check on her but I can’t get in the building.”
The woman smirked at me as if she saw right through my bullshit but instead of blowing me off, she moved ahead of me with her keys out, motioning for me to join her.
As we made our way up the narrow flight of stairs, I took in my surroundings. The remnants of
what must have once been a beautiful home, turned into a total shithole over the years. From
the leaking roof to the smell of rotting wood, it was obvious there had been no care or upkeep to the place and I hated to think of Rosie living here. Maybe I needed to rethink her salary
negotiation.
“That’s her apartment right there.” The woman pointed to a black door on the far right side of the hallway. “But I live right across the hall and if I hear so much as a scuffle I’m busting that door down and beating your tight little a*s.” She jabbed a finger into the middle of my chest jokingly, but I could tell she was serious.
Before the woman made her way into her apartment she turned to me, “Oh, and tell Rosaline that Nora said she has a lot of goddamned explaining to do.
I waited until Nora was safely tucked inside of her apartment before p******g on Rosie’s front door. “Sweetheart, it’s Dex, open up.”
“I thought I told you not to come.” Even through the thick door her sweet voice sounded awful.
I rested my forehead against the gold plated markings in front of me, “I know you didn’t think I was just going to let you cry those pretty little eyes out all alone did you?” I rapped on the door with my knuckles another three times. “Open the door, baby.”
Rosie slowly pulled the door open, revealing her sad, tear- stained face to me, her soft body immediately falling into my arms.
********
Rosie
As soon as I saw his handsome face I couldn’t help but throw myself at him. I tucked my body against his strong chest and reveled at the feeling of his arms wrapped around me. It had been so long since I’d been held like this. Years maybe,
and I felt completely starved of touch and affection.
The short phone call I shared with my father the night before left me overly emotional and
terrified. I was doing so well, refusing to think of him or the rest of my family while restarting my life, but all of my progress had been obliterated in minutes from just hearing his voice. I was afraid he would find me and drag me back to California, to my life of loneliness and ridicule, far away from the freedom and contentment I found since I’d been here.
I didn’t care that I was supposed to be keeping things professional with Dex, I didn’t care that I didn’t want him, or anyone else, to see me in such a vulnerable state.
I needed him.
I needed him to wrap his arms around me and tell me everything would be alright, and I needed to believe it. Even if only for a few seconds.
Before I knew it, I had dissolved into another round of sobs, my hands bunching up in the back of his soft t- shirt. Holding onto him for dear life.
Dex brought one of his strong hands up to the back of my head, stroking through my hair. He let me get out my sadness and frustration without any comment or judgment, and soon enough, his presence was enough to calm me down.
I looked up at him bashfully, feeling extremely embarrassed. “Sorry for crying all over you.”
He sighed. “You don’t need to apologize for crying, Rosie.”
“Still…” I couldn’t help but try to justify my actions. “You didn’t need to come all the way over here just to have me ruin your shirt. I’m sure you were busy.”
“I’m never too busy to let you into my arms, sweetheart.” His smirk was back in full effect, but I knew his words were serious.
I wasn’t sure what to say or do next, but I knew Dex changed things by coming to my house to comfort me. Just as I changed things by letting him see me in such an emotionally charged state. There was no reason to kick him out now.
“Do you want to stay for a drink or something?”
He didn’t say anything, but he gently pushed me aside, making his way further into my little apartment and settling on the couch.
Clad in only a soft gray t- shirt and a pair of jeans, Dex and his colorful tattoos stood out against the backdrop of my plain blue couch. He leaned back, relaxing into the couch, looking at me with heavy eyes.
“You wouldn’t happen to have any whiskey in that kitchen of yours, would you?”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “No but I have a highly esteemed bottle of five dollar supermarket white wine and a few room temperature bottles of water. Take your pick.”
“Please tell me you at least have ice…”
Instead of replying, I quickly shuffled into the kitchen, extremely happy to have a few seconds to compose myself. I splashed a little bit of tap water onto my face and pinched my cheeks a bit, hoping like hell that I didn’t look as horrible as I felt.
I sat as far away from Dex as I could on the small couch when I returned with a glass of ice and his bottled water. Secretly hoping to keep some space between us for the intense conversation I was sure we were about to have.
Dex poured and took a healthy sip of his water before turning to look at me. “Are you going to tell me what that was all about or do I have to start guessing?”
As much as I had come to trust him in the short time that I knew him, there was no way I was going to tell him my life story. It was too long, too depressing, and too exhausting to even get into.
“I’m just really stressed out, Dex.” I lied through my teeth, hoping like hell that he wouldn’t notice. “Between the move and the new job, everything is a bit too much right now.”
He took his full bottom lip into his mouth, biting down on it as he always did when he was deep in thought. “How about you take a couple days off work. No files, no phone calls, just take some time to enjoy yourself.”
A part of me wanted to turn him down, I did desperately need the money, but I needed the time off way more.
I nodded. “That actually sounds really nice, thanks, Dex.”
Dex reached out towards me, gently coaxing me to move closer to him on the couch before wrapping a strong arm around my shoulders, causing me to unconsciously lean my head against him.
“How about you come home with me. You can stay in my guest room and enjoy the pool…” he prompted, his voice more soothing than I had ever heard it. “My place is right on the beach. Tons of sunlight.”
“Dex, that’s- ”
“Just think about it, Rosie. You don’t need to stay cooped up in this dark apartment.”
“I don’t know…”
He looked down at me, his beautiful eyes soft and imploring. “Say yes, sweetheart, come home with me.”
I could do nothing but nod in agreement.
Dex jumped up off of the couch, the grin on his face bright enough to rival the Miami skyline.
“Let’s go pack your bags.” He started for my bedroom.
“Uh- uh, nope.” I stood in front of him, placing my hands on his chest, pushing him backwards. “You’ve done enough, just give me a few minutes to get some things together and we’ll go.”
“Don’t forget to pack a swimsuit!” He paused. “On second thought, maybe you should throw all your old ones away!”
I rolled my eyes in fake annoyance.
As I packed my overnight bag behind the closed door of my tiny bedroom, I couldn’t help but question my actions. Going home with Dex was reckless. He was my boss, my only source of normalcy, and one of the only things resembling a friend I had made in Miami. While his description of my stay was completely innocent, there was no doubt in my mind that the man
had other, much less pure, activities on his mind when he invited me.
Maybe I needed a little recklessness in my life; maybe it was time to embrace my feelings and try new, dangerous things. Wasn’t that why I had come here in the first place? To say goodbye to the old Rosaline and find out who I really was without my father’s pressure or expectations?
It was time for me to be brave, even if it meant losing my job. Even if it meant losing Dex in the end.
I wanted him and I was tired of denying it.
**********
Rosie
I spent the entire ride to Dex’s house with his large, warm hand resting on my knee. From time to time his hand would clench, his strong fingers curling around the front of my leg in a semi- tight grip, then, almost before I could feel the pressure of it, his hand would go back to softly cupping me.
I couldn’t tell if he did this because he was afraid I was going to change my mind and jump out of
the moving car, or if he just felt the need to touch me. Maybe it was a combination of both. Either way, I didn’t mind at all. In fact, I loved the feel of his fingers against my skin. His touch was reassuring and arousing all at once. Making me feel comforted and causing my skin to burn underneath the weight of him.
Most of the drive was spent in a comfortable silence. Neither of us really knew how to address the slight change of tension that hung around us in a cloying fog. So we said nothing choosing instead to turn our gazes to the glittering sun of the mid- afternoon Miami sky.
It wasn’t long before we pulled up to Dex’s place, a beautiful single story Mediterranean style home fronted by towering trees and bright, colorful plants. In the background I could hear the soft swells of the ocean and smell the fresh, fleeting scent of saltwater in the air. There were no fast cars, no loud music, nothing but the sound of swaying trees and nature at work. It was a far cry from my new apartment, but it somehow reminded me of home. My original home. Only
stripped of the pretense, biting words, and fake smiles. I already loved it.
“It’s so beautiful, Dex!” I couldn’t help but gush out of appreciation for his home.
“You like it?” Dex reached into the trunk of his Porsche, pulling out my overnight bag before coming around the car and swinging a heavy arm around my shoulders, keeping me rooted in my place, standing before the gorgeous house. “Humphrey Bogart bought it for Lauren Bacall in the ‘40s.”
I looked up at him wide- eyed. “Oh my God, seriously?”
“Yeah, he was filming a movie here, came across it and bought it on the spot.”
“That’s so romantic!” The thought of sleeping in the same place that used to house silver- screen royalty almost had me bouncing where I stood, even more excited to get inside.
Dex tilted his head, a small smile on his face. “I don’t know about that, sweetheart.” He fished his
keys out of his pocket, walking along the short path towards the door. “Rumor has it, they used to have some pretty wild orgies out by the pool.”
He let out a loud laugh as he made his way inside, leaving the door open for me to follow.
I paused.
“Dex, you asshole!”
Much like the exterior, the inside of Dex’s place was beautiful. All dark wooden floors and newly- renovated interiors. Much like his studio, it was full of large windows and beautiful artwork. The place was by no means a mansion, but it was definitely no hovel either. I could tell Dex took great pride in his home. It felt like an extension of him, the same way the warehouse and his car did. He seemed to have a way of making everything he touched his own. An observation that I couldn’t help but extend to myself as well.
“Have you eaten today?” Dex inquired after we shoved my things into the white- walled guest room.
“No.”
“We could cook something?” He turned the statement into a question.
I suddenly felt embarrassed. “Uh… I’m not a great cook.”
I could make basic things, of course, if you counted toast, salads, and frozen meals as basic. I had recently been branching out, trying my hand at things like spaghetti and baked chicken to no avail. Growing up in a wealthy family, we had a housekeeper to prepare all of our meals. I wasn’t even sure if my father or stepmother had ever touched a stove. I sure hadn’t, not before I moved to Miami.
“Yeah, my specialties begin and end with burgers.” He laughed a bit. “I don’t guess you feel like firing up the grill?” He pointed out of the back window at the large, chrome monstrosity sitting out by the
pool. I didn’t even want to think of going near that thing.
I shook my head.
“Alright then, we’ll order a pizza.”
An hour later, Dex and I were lounging in his living room completely stuffed. Me sitting comfortably on the couch and him parked on the floor, leaning back against the seat, flipping through channels on the television.
I stayed mostly silent, letting Dex make odd comments about the shows he saw and chuckling a bit when he said something funny, which he did often. Since I came to the realization that I was tired of staying away from him, I became unsure about how to broach the topic.
I knew he wanted me, that much was clear. I could see it in his beautiful green eyes when he
looked at me and I could feel it in the way his soft hands touched my skin as much as he could get away with. But I wasn’t sure how to bring it up.
The only boyfriend I ever had, Daniel, was also the only man I had ever slept with. His generically handsome face never inspired the sort of burning, all- consuming desire that Dex elicited out of me. I, and more importantly, my father, had found him harmless enough. I spent a year letting him drill into me senselessly in my dorm room two nights a week when my roommate had her salsa lessons. There had never been any foreplay, any creativity, any passion. Only visions of his puffy red face panting above me and the feel of his too- soft hands clutching my b*****s.
..
The sitcoms I watched growing up told me this was normal, that women just didn’t enjoy s*x the same way men did. But there was something about Dex and the almost animalistic way I felt when he looked at me that let me know it wasn’t. S*x with Dex Quinn wouldn’t be boring or uninspiring. I was sure it would be so damn good that I would have a hard time giving it up when whatever relationship we had came to its inevitable end.
“What do you think of this?” Dex’s voice abruptly brought me out of my thoughts as he paused his channel surfing, the television stopped on some new HBO show.
“I’m not really in the mood to watch T.V. right now.”
Dex swiftly turned off the tube and sat the remote down on the coffee table in front of him before leaning slightly closer to my legs. “Well, what are you in the mood for.”
“We could go swimming.” His fingers began to graze my bare ankles. The touch was so soft that I wasn’t sure I would even have been able to feel it if it weren’t for how hyperaware I was of his presence.
“That’s a no- go, baby.” His fingers continued their descent upwards, those thumbs drawing
circles in the insides of my calves. “I think the chlorine levels are off right now.” He lied obviously.
I pouted. “But you promised…”
“Don’t worry, Rosie, you’re about to get plenty wet.”
I giggled at his cheesy line, any pretense of uncertainty melting away the further he got up my legs. “And what if I already am?”
Dex groaned, spitting out a curse word before moving to sit on his knees directly in front of me, his soft lips immediately pressing against the inside of my knee directly below my yellow
sundress.
I knew, in theory, what was about to happen, and while I hadn’t had any firsthand experience
with anyone going down on me, my body seemed to know exactly what to do. My c**t throbbed in anticipation, causing the rest of my p***y to slicken, my cream soaking my underwear and the insides of my thighs.
My heart pounded the same way it had the first time I saw him: painful and unrelenting.
His hands tightened their grip on my knees, spreading my legs further apart before wandering upwards, making gooseflesh arise on the inside of my thighs. You can hi ohene ome on+233544142683 to be added to Story headquarters room. His head quickly followed, as he shoved himself between my between my knees.
“You smell so f*****g good here.” His voice was a growl as he pressed his nose against the seat of my black cotton panties, making my swollen p***y ache even more. “I’ve been waiting to taste this sweet p***y since I met you.” Dex brought his hand up, gently running his index finger along my covered center, stopping to put pressure on my c**t through the material.
My back arched up off of the couch and a hoarse cry fell from my throat. I couldn’t remember the last time I was so swept up in pleasure. Probably never.
Dex spoke again before his tongue took the place of his fingers, the hot, wet appendage rendering me speechless. “Can I, baby?” His teeth gently nipped at me. “Can I eat this p***y?”
Again, I said nothing, too overwhelmed by the sensations of feeling him so close to me.
“I need you to say it, Rosie. I need you to answer me. Tell me I can taste you.” Dex paused his ministrations, leaning back to look at me.
I whined.
“Dex, please…” I couldn’t even form any coherent thoughts, let alone words.
He said nothing, only leaned down to take a bite out of the supple flesh of my inner thigh, so close to where I really wanted him to be.
“F**k, yes!” I was getting increasingly worked up, desperate for his mouth, for any touch at all. “Please, Dex, I need you!”
He immediately dove in, shimmying my panties off in one quick motion before spreading me wide. My legs bent and splayed across the couch and my wet, swollen c**t completely open for his viewing.
At the first touch of his tongue against me I could do nothing but gasp. Warm and firm, the muscle explored my folds in a frenzy of pleasure and wetness. Tasting me, consuming me in a way I could hardly believe. He ignored my throbbing c**t in favor of gliding one thick finger into me, filling me beautifully and keeping me wanting more at the same time.
Before long, he latched onto my c**t, coaxing the little button out of its hood, his lips and tongue surrounding it with light s*****g motions. The pleasure of it caused me to gush, my juices running out of me and coating Dex’s fingers. The sound of him f*****g in and out of my wet p***y was so loud that it would have been embarrassing if it hadn’t been so f*****g hot.
I loved it. I wanted him to hear how turned on I was for him, how every sexual experience I ever had paled in comparison to the simple, but decadent feel of him devouring me from the inside out.
“That feels so f*****g good, baby.” My voice came out in a gasp. “Please give me more. I need more!”
Dex’s tongue went back to laving at my p***y lips, gently drawing me away from my impending orgasm.
“I could feel your pretty little p***y tightening around my fingers.” His voice was a deep growl, soft but thunderous. “I don’t want you to come yet. Not until I tell you to.”
I creamed again, his commanding tone sending shivers through my body. I loved his commands, but my obedience felt truly selfish. I would do whatever it took to keep the pleasure alive for as long as he allowed it.
TBC
