Read Online Burnin' Up Memphis: Firehouse 69, Book 1 by Delilah Devlin - Free Book Online
Authors: Delilah Devlin
Ads: Link
worry about me.”
He was silent for a moment. “When did I give you the impression you could come?”
Her head came up and she glanced back to see his expression. Was he joking?
No. His gaze was narrow, steely. His jaw displayed an unmovable edge.
Thrilled, more fluid slipped from her vagina.
His blue eyes darkened and he knelt on the bed, reached for her hips and tugged them, forcing her to scoot back to the edge of the mattress. Faced forward, she tried to sink her nails into the mattress, but there was no give to grip.
A nip to the crease dividing thigh and buttock made her jump. Another, higher on her ass, made her jerk, and she inched open her knees, wanting to give him more access, dying for a bite or nip to tender places.
“I don’t want you touching yourself. I don’t want you controlling anything.”
He said this while reaching over her for her hands. He tugged them down, placing them on the separate halves of her ass and forcing them to spread her cheeks.
“I want to see what I’m going to fuck.”
Moira moaned, embarrassed to have him staring so intently at her shaved pussy and gaping hole. But it was the kind of embarrassed that she loved. He’d allow no modesty between them. He’d take exactly what he wanted of her, no prohibitions. He was going to take her ass at some point, and she did love anal sex. In fact, just the thought of him sliding that thick, long cock of his inside her there made her groin throb. Her clit was hard and slick. Prominent. He couldn’t miss the rounded red bulb of it. But when would he touch it?
His hands roamed her ass, smoothing up and over, avoiding her hands and trailing moist fingers down her crack. She squirmed, unable to keep still as he explored.
When he moved one of her hands away, he pinched that side of her outer labia and she wriggled, sticking her ass up higher and gasping for air.
When he patted away her other hand, she didn’t complain as he pinched that side, holding both lips apart. Something solid and pointed entered her. It was also warm and wet. Lord, it was his tongue, pointed and thrusting just as he’d taken her mouth on the field. He tasted her there, sinking inside her, pinching her labia so hard they stung. But dear God, the burn was delicious.
He withdrew his tongue, rolled his whiskered cheeks and chin in her tender inner folds, and she knew she soaked his face with her arousal.
That he didn’t mind was too apparent. His deep inward breaths were accompanied by guttural groans. And then his tongue began to devour her in broad wet strokes. Lapping and licking, flicking toward her bulbous clit. The moment he touched it, she nearly flew—his muffled uh-uhn the only thing that held her back. She’d be good for him. Give him everything he asked. And then maybe he’d give her what she needed.
His mouth left and his hands fell away. “Let me look at you.”
She reached for her sex and spread her folds.
The sounds of his clothing rustling, falling, made her wish she could rub her clit.
“Roll to your back.”
She crawled to the center of the mattress, straightened her knees and rolled, sliding her legs open because he would still want to see. Her gaze swept his nude frame. She liked looking at him from this angle. Loved the direct stare. Loved the jut of his cock from his groin—so thick and upright. Made for mounting. Her gaze traveled upward, past an eight-pack she wanted to explore with fingers and tongue and nose, up to his chest. Brown silky hair cloaked his upper chest, stretched between his flat brown nipples that displayed erect, tiny points.
There were scars. Smudged skin, slick and rumpled in places. Pink and brown against the tan. Burns. On his shoulder, a forearm, the outer edge of his hand. None terribly large, but a stark reminder of the dangers of his job.
He slapped plastic against one palm, drawing her gaze. He peeled the packet open and slowly cloaked himself in thin latex.
Moira slid her heels up, bent her
He was silent for a moment. “When did I give you the impression you could come?”
Her head came up and she glanced back to see his expression. Was he joking?
No. His gaze was narrow, steely. His jaw displayed an unmovable edge.
Thrilled, more fluid slipped from her vagina.
His blue eyes darkened and he knelt on the bed, reached for her hips and tugged them, forcing her to scoot back to the edge of the mattress. Faced forward, she tried to sink her nails into the mattress, but there was no give to grip.
A nip to the crease dividing thigh and buttock made her jump. Another, higher on her ass, made her jerk, and she inched open her knees, wanting to give him more access, dying for a bite or nip to tender places.
“I don’t want you touching yourself. I don’t want you controlling anything.”
He said this while reaching over her for her hands. He tugged them down, placing them on the separate halves of her ass and forcing them to spread her cheeks.
“I want to see what I’m going to fuck.”
Moira moaned, embarrassed to have him staring so intently at her shaved pussy and gaping hole. But it was the kind of embarrassed that she loved. He’d allow no modesty between them. He’d take exactly what he wanted of her, no prohibitions. He was going to take her ass at some point, and she did love anal sex. In fact, just the thought of him sliding that thick, long cock of his inside her there made her groin throb. Her clit was hard and slick. Prominent. He couldn’t miss the rounded red bulb of it. But when would he touch it?
His hands roamed her ass, smoothing up and over, avoiding her hands and trailing moist fingers down her crack. She squirmed, unable to keep still as he explored.
When he moved one of her hands away, he pinched that side of her outer labia and she wriggled, sticking her ass up higher and gasping for air.
When he patted away her other hand, she didn’t complain as he pinched that side, holding both lips apart. Something solid and pointed entered her. It was also warm and wet. Lord, it was his tongue, pointed and thrusting just as he’d taken her mouth on the field. He tasted her there, sinking inside her, pinching her labia so hard they stung. But dear God, the burn was delicious.
He withdrew his tongue, rolled his whiskered cheeks and chin in her tender inner folds, and she knew she soaked his face with her arousal.
That he didn’t mind was too apparent. His deep inward breaths were accompanied by guttural groans. And then his tongue began to devour her in broad wet strokes. Lapping and licking, flicking toward her bulbous clit. The moment he touched it, she nearly flew—his muffled uh-uhn the only thing that held her back. She’d be good for him. Give him everything he asked. And then maybe he’d give her what she needed.
His mouth left and his hands fell away. “Let me look at you.”
She reached for her sex and spread her folds.
The sounds of his clothing rustling, falling, made her wish she could rub her clit.
“Roll to your back.”
She crawled to the center of the mattress, straightened her knees and rolled, sliding her legs open because he would still want to see. Her gaze swept his nude frame. She liked looking at him from this angle. Loved the direct stare. Loved the jut of his cock from his groin—so thick and upright. Made for mounting. Her gaze traveled upward, past an eight-pack she wanted to explore with fingers and tongue and nose, up to his chest. Brown silky hair cloaked his upper chest, stretched between his flat brown nipples that displayed erect, tiny points.
There were scars. Smudged skin, slick and rumpled in places. Pink and brown against the tan. Burns. On his shoulder, a forearm, the outer edge of his hand. None terribly large, but a stark reminder of the dangers of his job.
He slapped plastic against one palm, drawing her gaze. He peeled the packet open and slowly cloaked himself in thin latex.
Moira slid her heels up, bent her
Similar Books
