"I think I'd like to show you how perfectyouare, Brooke," he whispers.
The definition of the word platonic dissipates from my mind. Friends? What are those? Who cares! I'm about to get some Dustin.
"Is that so?" I purr, looking over at him through my eyelashes.
The good thing about a studio apartment is that the bed is never very far away. He releases my foot—I pout and whine—and gestures to the bed. I expect him to sit downor maybe lay down, but he doesn't. He stands beside it and watches me flop and adjust myself until I'm perfectly comfy.
"Take off those pants, Brooke." He unbuttons his shirt and drops it to the floor. "Now, if you please."
His commanding tone, mixed with the polite words, stokes the butterflies in my stomach. I follow his directions and shimmy the pants off, then drop them to the floor beside the bed.
"Panties, too."
The instant my underwear hits the floor, he dives towards me and spreads my legs apart. His tongue circles my clit before I have a second to comprehend what's happening. I don't think I need to comprehend. I think I need to turn my mind off and chase the pleasure.
"God, you taste better than I remember." He flattens his tongue and takes a deep, long swipe that floods the thought center of my brain with tingles. "Wrap those legs around my head, baby. I'm taking you for a ride."
"Oh, god," I whimper and arch my back. I feel like I might float off the mattress. The things he does with his tongue… why did I ever let him go? How could I ever think he's boring?
His tongue and lips dance around my clit, giving just enough pressure to make me gasp but not enough to be uncomfortable. It's perfect. Everything about him is perfect. Every breath comes out as a keening moan. I don'teven realize I'm gripping the sheets until he wraps his lips around my clit and flicks it with his tongue—I about rip the sheets off the bed, my arms having a mind of their own.
I'm getting closer and closer. He can feel it, too. He slips a finger inside me and curls it, making a come-hither motion. I see fuckingstarsbehind my eyelids. There's no way I can hold on much longer. My breath hitches, and my muscles tense—
"Not yet." He backs off and smiles up at me. He looks so fucking good with my arousal smeared all over his face. "Not yet, baby."
"Please?" I'm whining, and I don't care. I wriggle my hips and try to lock him between my legs, but he's too fast.
"You'll get yours, I promise. You believe me, right?"
"I do."
"Then turn over. Face down, ass up." He kneels on the bed and grips my hips, turning me impatiently. He lost his pants at some point, and his rock-hard cock stands at attention. I allow myself to be manhandled by Dustin and whimper as the cool air hits my pussy. "God, that's a gorgeous sight."
My whole body vibrates with anticipation. I can feel myself absolutely drenched, dripping down my thighs, and I need him. "Please, Dustin? Please?"
He makes a feral sound and rubs the head of his cock against my pussy. A low groan emanates from somewhere in my soul. I open my mouth to beg him, plead with him, but he slips inside, and I feel myself stretch around his thick cock. Goddamn.
"How are you so perfect?" Dustin whispers. "You taste divine, and you feel even better. God."
I melt. I'm a puddle. I'm a perfectly fuckable puddle. Dustin thrusts into me with the pistoning speed and power of a god. I clutch the sheets like it might save my life, but we both know it won't. He huffs out a laugh when he sees me hanging on with a death grip.
"Too much for you, baby? You want me to slow it down?" He thrusts deeper than before, stealing my breath. "Or am Iboringyou?"
I gasp, but it morphs into a moan as he slaps my asshard. He really loves my ass—it's a welcome change, honestly. Calvin thought it was too big, too jiggly. But Dustin? He goes all googly-eyed whenever I wear anything more form fitting than sweatpants. I try to vocalize my thoughts—or anything at all—but it just comes out as a muffled groan.
"Use your words, baby. Tell me what you want."
"More?"
"As you wish, baby."
This beautiful, beautiful man pounds me into the goddamn mattress. My eyes roll back. My brain doesn't work.My limbs are noodles. My hands can only scrabble at the blankets and try to find something to grab hold of. I've never been fucked like this, ever. Not even by Dustin. He isn't holding back. He's turned me from a competent, intelligent woman into a whimpering mess. I'm cock-drunk.
I've never been cock-drunk.
Dustin's masculine grunts and groans sound like music to my ears. I arch my back for him, clenching my pelvic muscles, and relish in the sounds of his whimpered "fuck." His hand smacks across my ass cheek again, and I shiver at the sting.
"Do you remember how to count, baby?" Dustin caresses the stinging flesh of my ass cheek, and I nod into the bed. "No, I need you to say it."
