61. Michael

MICHAEL

I feel her fingers between us. Feel them moving. Rubbing at her clit.

I drag my teeth over her sensitive skin. “Such a bad girl. Touching herself without permission.”

“I’m sorry,” Alice cries, but she doesn’t stop. “I’m sorry. I have to.”

Instead of pouring the sauce, this time, I dip two fingers into the dish.

I swipe the chocolate across her other nipple.

“You have to what?” I ask, working to sound unaffected while accepting that I’m punishing myself with this more than I’m punishing her.

“I need to come.” Her movements are getting more frantic. “Please, Santa. Please let me come.”

My cock throbs.

“Suck my fingers clean.” I lift my chocolate-smeared fingers to her mouth. “Suck them clean, and you can come, Little Alice.”

I close my lips around her nipple and push my fingers into her mouth.

She sucks on them like they’re made of candy, her tongue swirling around, drawing off every speck of sweetness.

She’s trembling.

Moaning.

Sucking and rocking.

And then she’s exploding.

Her mouth opens, and my fingers press against her tongue as she arches her back and comes all over my cock.

I can’t sit still anymore.

Wrapping my arms around her, I stand.