Chapter 118: 118. Hunger
Mercer
Maisie screamed something inaudible against my palm, thrashing against me. All it did was press those tits against my chest.
I grabbed one of them and squeezed, groaning at the softness.
Maisie’s breath stuttered and her teeth sank into my palm.
My balls tightened.
Maisie made me crazy. This shopping date had started out nice. Perfect. And she had to go and ruin it by testing me. I tried to be nice, a gentleman, but she always made me into an animal.
"You are going to be quiet, wildcat," I murmured, rubbing her nipple with my thumb and I watched her pupils dilate and shine. "Or everyone out there is going to find out how needy you get with my fingers fucking you."
Her eyes widened and she began shaking her head in earnest. A silly thing to do, when her spine kept arching to the stroke of my thumb.
I lowered my hand and it met her ass cheek with a smack that echoed like a whip crack. Her body jerked in shock, a gasp bursting free from her throat.
My hand stayed, squeezing each cheek greedily, kneading, molding.
She whimpered and I saw the loathing flash in her eyes immediately. She hated her reaction to me, but I could tell her pussy loved it, because the earthly scent of her arousal tickled my nostrils.
I lifted her effortlessly with a handful of her ass, and her legs dangled uselessly as I crushed her against me. The heat of her made me so hungry. It also pissed me the fuck off. If she ever learned how much control she had over me, I’d be done for.
I crushed my nose into her neck and licked.
Another small gasp escaped. How I loved the sounds she made for me. It ignited every cell in my body.
Her fingers clutched at my shirt as her knees gave out upon the assault of my lips on her neck. "Stop it," she tried to say over my fingers, but there was no protest. It came out as a husky groan and she might as well have said in plain terms: Fuck me, Mercer.
I pulled back, just so I could see her eyes as my hand disappeared between her thighs.
At the press of my fingers against her panties, she stiffened and began to thrash in earnest, trying to clamp her thighs together before I could find the tell-tale sign that she was enjoying this far too much.
And I did.
She was so wet, she soaked through the fabric.
"You’re soaking, May." My voice sounded like gravel. "Did you know, females release a different kind of scent when they’re wet and ready for fucking?" My lips ghosted down the curve of her collarbone, catching the delicate skin between my teeth in the same minute I pushed my fingers into her.
Tight. My world blurred. She was so fucking tight, I hurt. Beautiful, the sight she made as I made myself comfortable inside her. Her eyes rolled back in her head and her head fell back against the wall.
And when she squeezed around me, I couldn’t see right. My head bowed, dropping to her neck, sniffing myself on her.
My dick tightened to the point of discomfort, and I growled, "You’ve smelled that way ever since you moved in with us. It’s been torture staying away from you, sleeping across the house, knowing full well you were dreaming about us fucking you." A pause, and I pressed my thumb up her swollen clit. "I had dreams, too. Would you like to hear them?"
She shook her head frantically in an unmistakable ’no’, then cried out, hips bucking with pleasure, and I watched her writhe beautifully.
I was no believer, but... Jesus.
She was so fucking beautiful like this, riding my fingers recklessly.
Ah well. I imagined I would have to tell her all about it later. Right now, I was hungry.
My hand came off her lips and she glanced down at me with dark eyes as I sank to my knees in front of her. Anger and lust warred in her eyes. The latter won out as I buried my face between her thighs and she moaned loudly and unchecked.
A few gasps rolled in from outside, and I grinned, pleased with myself.
Her fingers sank into my hair, pulling so tight, I was half convinced she was trying to rip out my hair.
"I hate you," she told me, but spread her legs wider for me, gasping as I parted her sex with my tongue, tasting her. The taste of her was so damned addicting.
I could never get enough of it. How the hell was I supposed to lose this forever? And those little sounds that caught in my throat when I had my tongue inside her velvet softness?
They’d haunt me forever, like an addict being offered a line of crack wherever he turned. Should never have touched her in the first place, I thought as I stroked her slowly, drawing out another whimper from her.
"Please," she moaned.
"Please what?"
"Get your mouth off me," she said, but clamped her thighs tighter around my face until I couldn’t breathe.
"No," she shook her head. "Yes... no... no, don’t do that... yes—oh god, faster," she urged, panting.
This was what I wanted. Her writhing beneath me, nose scrunched up in pleasure, lip trapped between her teeth as she whimpered.
I held her in place when she began riding my tongue haphazardly and the growl of impatience she released was anything but human. I recognized it. Mad called to mad.
And unfortunately, I’d been mad for a long time.
A shiver of anticipation zinged through my balls, but I took my time. This was for her. This was for the hunger and the obsessive need to have her taste on my tongue.
Her clitoris swelled on my tongue and I sucked, grazing a canine softly across the tender skin. Her toes curled. Her chest rose and fell on greedy inhales. She hissed harshly, pushing down against my face, uncaring of the fact that she was stealing my breath. I chuckled, amused, and somehow, that made her wetter against my lips.
Her breaths quickened and I kept my tongue tracing circles only on the tip of her clit. She began to work her hips wildly, her body softening for me. I flattened my tongue against her, licking from clit to ass and she cried my name so hoarsely, I half-spilled in my pants.
Her hips bucked harder and she tried to run from me. My grip only tightened and her moans filled the air as I nibbled and drink my fill from her orgasm.
And when I pulled away from her, her cheeks were reddened, her expression dazed, but sated.
I cupped her cheek. "You’re most welcome."
She threw me out of the room.
