4. Ryan

Chapter 4

Ryan

She does as she's told, and her head falls back against the cabinet above. I drop to my knees and watch my fingers spread her slickness from side to side, coating her folds.

Kayla McInnes has had the upper hand for as long as I’ve known her. She’s a measly six weeks older than me and she loves to remind me every chance she gets. She learned to ski first, and she’s always been faster. She was better at school, speaks better French, can light a better fire. And she’s an assassin at card games who can drink me under the table any day of the week.

Still, when it comes to sex, I’d argue I’m better at making her lose her mind, and she doesn’t have the advantage now. Not when I have her spread open and aching. I swipe my thumb over her clit, just as pretty as I remember, and she jerks at the sensation.

“Fuck, I missed this view. Best view on the planet.”

She's trimmed her hair into a neat strip, smooth and glistening underneath. I’ve seen all her variations over the years, but this one makes me think she was hoping to get laid tonight. I can’t tell whether that pisses me off or makes me even harder.

“Have you changed?”

She drops her head forward and stares down at me. “What?”

“Have you changed, or are you the same pretty little slut that likes me to remind her who her pussy belongs to? ”

Inches from my face, she throbs again, and I take it as my answer.

“What'll it be, Kayla? Do you want a good boy or a bad boy?”

“Bad, so bad,” she huffs out. I nip a chunk of thigh between my teeth and shake my head like a wolf with caught prey.

That’s how it’s always been with us. Two people with tastes that dance around the edge of what most people would deem socially acceptable. Whether we’re up the mountain or sneaking around in our parents’ houses, Kayla loves the thrill of the chase, the climb. The higher the risk, the greater the reward, as far as she’s concerned.

I love to lure out the raw animal inside of her. To bite her and make her bite back. To taunt and tease, to trap her and make her mine. Love to make her ache and beg, and I’ve always, always, loved to play with my food.

Without warning, I thrust my tongue inside and feast like a starving man. I can’t for the life of me remember what the fuck I’ve been doing all these years when I could have been doing this.

Her hips tilt forward, driving against my mouth. She lets go of one ankle, draping it over my shoulder so her fingers can sink into my hair. Her moan matches mine when she grips the strands at the back and pulls me in closer. It’s a small claim for power, but there’s no way I’m giving it up just yet.

I shift my focus to her clit, nudging it from side to side, applying the lightest pressure with my tongue. Her deep moans shift to needy whimpers, and my dick gets painfully hard in my jeans. Pulling back, I watch myself slide two fingers in to the hilt, then drag them in and out of her, deep and slow and first, then harder and faster.

Looking up, I catch her watching too, and when our eyes lock, I pull them out and take my time to suck them clean .

“You want a taste?” I ask, and she nods, her mouth falling open. She’s so fucking wet, there’s plenty for both of us. I push them inside her again, extra deep, then stand up and paint her mouth with it.

Palm up, I offer her my fingers, then at the last second bend my middle one to my mouth so she can suck one while I suck the other. Her tongue is magnificent, swirling its way down until it meets mine, and I pull my hand away and kiss her like my life depends on it.

She opens for me, letting me lick into her mouth, and the taste of her pussy on her own tongue drives me insane. I can’t stop, but I need to get her off, fast.

I squeeze her tits through her sweater, then trail my hand down to roam between her spread thighs. Once my fingers stroke deep, I trace circles around her clit and relish the sound of her moaning into my mouth. Her other foot slips off the edge of the counter and I pick it back up and plant it wider.

Our kisses are sloppy and desperate. She nips me with her teeth, and I nip her back. Her nails dig into my neck and my free hand grips one of her braids, yanking her head to the side so I can moan in her ear, just the way she likes.

“Need you to come on my hand, Bunny. Show me what I’ve been missing.”

I add pressure in the right spot , then Kayla McInnes, the most beautiful girl in the world, shatters in front of me. I watch her face, her eyes squeezed tightly, head tipped back, mouth open and gasping for air as her hips jerk roughly.

She always gets super sensitive after she comes, but I’ve missed out on so much time with her, I can’t stop now. I drop to my knees and work her clit with my tongue again, not letting up even while she whimpers and whines, squirming on the countertop. I can’t tell if she’s pulling me closer or pushing me away, but with my tongue flicking from side to side, it’s not long before she comes again, clamping her shaking thighs around my head.

When she’s ready to cut me loose, I stand and lick a hot wet stripe up the column of her throat.

“Missed you so fucking much,” I tell her, but she barely pauses to catch her breath before hopping off the counter and switching places with me. I worry about her knees on the hard tile, but then she’s pulling my clothes down, wrapping her pretty lips around the head of my cock, and I’m seeing stars.

“Jesus, fuck, Kayla, give me a second to—” I pull my t-shirt off and drop it on the floor.

“No,” she moans around it, sliding her wet mouth further down my shaft, nudging me towards the back of her throat. I used to worry about making her gag until she told me how much she loved it, too. She bobs her head, coating my length with spit, then wrapping her hand around it, stroking me firmly.

I keep my eyes on her mouth, scooping a braid in each fist while she works me over, swirling her tongue around the throbbing head.

“Can I see your tits?” I plead. She yanks her top up, puffs her chest out to keep it lifted, then gets back to smacking my dick against her flattened tongue. A strangled moan rumbles out of me. This view should be illegal.

One downside of our arrangement is that I never see photos of her. It’s also a positive, because if she ever graced me with a photo of her tits, I’d get no work done, and I’d turn into an even bigger menace and start begging for new ones every day.

Whenever I think about her in a sexual way, which is far more than I should, it’s usually like this. On her knees, greedy, worshipping. She once bet she could make me come in under a minute without using her hands, then shaved thirteen seconds off the target.

She’s the benchmark, the blueprint, and if she wanted to tattoo her signature along the side of it, I’d let her and say thank you. That’s how much she owns my dick. Everything it knows, it learned from her, everything it likes, it's all because of her.

I couldn’t hold off even if I wanted to.

“I’m close. I’m gonna—” I grip those braids tighter, the only thing keeping me from crumbling to the floor. “Where do you want—”

Kayla grabs my ass, short, sharp nails digging in as she pulls me deeper into her mouth. I look down at my pretty girl, this beautiful mess, eyes wide, mouth sloppy with drool spilling out at the sides. Something in my chest pinches, then snaps, and my orgasm roars forth, flooding her mouth as her cheeks hollow out. My hips buck with each release, moans filling the room.

I stroke her cheeks with my thumbs until she deigns to release me from her heavenly grip. She smiles up at me, panting, proud, and satisfied, as she swallows me down. One final white stream spurts out of me, landing on the sweater bunched at her throat.

This is bad form. I should have taken the time to get her naked. It’s the least she deserved. It’s not the fastest we’ve gotten each other off at the start of a trip. I think the last time I visited, I was inside her before we’d even said hello. Tonight might be the best, though, outstripping anything my brain came up with in our years apart. I swipe a drop of cum from the corner of her lips with my thumb, then lick it off.

Kayla hops to her feet and fixes her clothes back into place. I’m about to pull her into my arms, but some cloud descends. Her mouth presses into a tight pout, head shaking as our eyes lock.

“You fucking bastard.”