“Are you still unsatisfied, Kitten?”
“I don’t know what I am.” Her lashes fluttered and slowly raised until she met my gaze as I hovered above her.
“Hmm.” I dipped my head, trailing a path of kisses down her neck to her sternum, before continuing my trek lower. “Maybe I’ll keep going down on you until you figure it out.”
“Don’t you dare!” Gemma’s voice rose in panic, her hands reaching for me.
I pressed my lips to the smooth skin right above her navel. “Just trying to make up for thirty-seven long years without a toe-curling orgasm.” Lifting my head to meet her stare, I asked, “Your toes did curl, right? Because if not, I need to do a better job.”
Staring at me for a minute, she finally spoke. “You know how old I am?”
My head tilted to the side. “I returned your license, remember?”
Lips twisting, she mused, “Isn’t that breaking some cardinal rule about asking a woman her age?”
“Maybe, but I’m not sorry.”
“Of course you’re not,” Gemma muttered. “Are you planning to share your age with me anytime soon? Just to keep it fair?”
“Twenty-eight.” My reply was said against her soft skin.
A groan sounded from above, and I peeked up in time to see her throwing an arm over her eyes. “Oh my God. You’re a baby.”
Gripping her free hand, I shifted enough that I could wrap her fingers around my aching cock. “I think we both know that’s not true.”
“Jesus.”
She squeezed, and I nearly came undone from that action alone. I’d been holding back for her sake, but I wasn’t going to last much longer.
My cock wept as Gemma gave a tentative stroke, and I had to pry her fingers away before I embarrassed myself.
“Sure you don’t want another one riding my face? I’ll let you sit on it, using it as your throne.”
“Um—I—” she stuttered before finally saying, “Maybe another time.”
I flashed her with a victorious grin. She might not have realized what she said, but she was already thinking about more—more sex, more of us together—and that meant the door was cracked open for our future.
“What’s that look for?” Gemma’s lips and brows both drew down.
“Just so fucking happy, Kitten. Thank you for letting me in.”
“So. . .” She swallowed. “Is that, uh, thing only for show? Or do you know how to use it?”
A loud laugh burst from my lips. When she glared at me in response, I forced myself to calm enough to reply. “What happened to my little firecracker? The one who raised hell in the middle of a crowded public place? Is she shy in private? Can’t say the word cock?”
“Not sure that”—she shot a pointed look at my thick erection—“can be wielded without the proper license. It’s practically a weapon.”
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ve logged the required practice hours.” I winked.
“Cocky,” she huffed, proving that she could indeed say the word.
“No,” I countered. “Confident is the word you’re looking for. And I’m about to show you why.”
Sitting up on my knees, I found myself perched between her spread-open thighs. Her glistening pink pussy was practically taunting me, screaming,Come and get me; I’m all yours.
When I swiped my fingers through her slit, Gemma gasped, hips bucking. I teased two fingers inside easily, then a third, spreading them as I prepared her. She hissed when I tried to add a fourth. I knew the stretch was intense, but it was necessary. My cock wouldn’t be able to fit otherwise.
One eye was on my actions between her thighs; the other kept a close watch on her face, not wanting to push her too far. Her teeth dug into her lower lip, eyes squeezed shut as she grimaced.
