Seventeen

Valeria's luscious thighs clamp my head so tightly, my ears are ringing, but at this point she could crush my skull and I'd be fine with it. I mean, hey—if it happens, I died doing what I love. Most people can't say as much.

Her hand returns to my hair as she writhes mindlessly under my ministrations, shoving the apex of her sweet pussy into my face. "Good girl," I say in a muffled, messy groan before running my tongue along one of her lips. My girl.

Her thighs press against my ears and her grip tightens. Needy. Desperate. Even though I want to spend all night thoroughly licking every inch of her wet pussy, I can take a hint. She wants me to cut to the chase.

I circle my lips over her pert clit and suck deeply, running the tip of my tongue against the bud. Groaning, she responds beautifully by arching her back even more and really tugging the shit out of my hair.

God, she's incredible.

She tastes like tangy, succulent goodness and the scant bit of blood in my body that hasn't traveled to my painfully hard cock swirls in my brain and makes me hate myself for waiting an entire year to do this.

While I work her clit, Valeria slides a hand underneath her t-shirt and cups one of her breasts. She rises, seeking her own touch. If she's working her breast half as firmly as she's pulling my hair, I know she's going to leave it red and swollen—the way I like.

I'm desperate to strip her down, but the riskiness of the situation isn't lost on me: I didn't lock any doors, my condo isn't big, and far too many of my friends from college and law school are in my living room. Anyone could walk in on us right now…

…and I'm a sick fuck for loving the idea of someone seeing me with my face buried in this woman's naked pussy.

My need to see more of her is growing and steadily becoming frustrating because I'm not a patient man when it comes to her. I need this. I might fucking die if I don't see more of her. Grab more of her. Mark her. Make her scream my name like a battle cry.

Fuck it. Let's get feral.

"Tits out," I order, daring to break the suction on her clit. "I want to see those nipples pointed at the ceiling when I make you come all over my face."

Her eyebrows knot, and for a brief moment she seems confused. Can't imagine why. I was so fucking clear: Tits. Out.

I give her clit a nip with my teeth, a nip that's rough and toxic and fucking obnoxious. Magically, it's the catalyst. She doesn't waste another second. In fact, I've never seen anyone strip so quickly in my life.

"That's it. Such a good girl," I grit.

Then it's just me staring down at her lush, naked body, and something becomes immediately and abundantly clear: I'm never, ever going to get over this woman. She may break my heart, disappear from my life, and fundamentally destroy me, but I'll never forget seeing her naked in real life for the first time.

She smiles at me, her lips swollen and shiny from kissing. Her generous chest lifts, drawing my attention. Both of her hands go to her breasts this time, and she pinches her perky, brown nipples between her thumbs and index fingers, rolling them—downright manhandling them.

I bow and take a nipple between my lips. It's a milestone. After a year, I finally learn what it feels like to have her breast in my mouth.

I'm fucking ruined.

She"s indescribably delicious. The softness of her large areola caresses my lips when I pull back to keep the tip of her nipple in my mouth, and my entire world changes with a single suck. These tits are my religion. My beginning and end, alpha and omega, all that shit. I live for these tits. I'd die for these perfect tits.

"Your mouth feels amazing," Valeria coos, allowing her eyes to close. Her voice is distant and dreamy when she says, "Good boy. Taste my nipples."

Good boy. There's something about a woman five years younger than me calling me a good boy that has me torn between finding enough rope to wrangle the moon for her or using that same rope to bind her and prove I'm neither good nor a boy.

But then I realize she definitely knows I'm not a boy—or good, for that matter—when she tugs my face off her nipple, glances down at her pussy, and asks, "Will you lick a scream out of me while I come on your mouth?"

Another request. I'm beyond pleased. After one last kiss to her nipple—not a goodbye kiss by any means—I return to my spot between her legs.

Picking up where I left off, I don't tease her. I lap at her clit, making sure there's not a single place my tongue hasn't touched. Top to bottom, side to side, I explore her like a pioneer.

Valeria thrusts, her body taking up the motions of fucking and giving me a preview that has my heart racing uncontrollably. My pulse throbs for her, and I've only had my face between her legs for three minutes.

"Wider," I order, urging her to part her legs. "Show me the hole I'm going to shove my fingers into."

She does. She spreads as wide as she can, showing off the brown of her pussy lips.

Deftly, I slip two fingers into her, adding fullness to the sensation of me eating her cunt. She could take a third finger, I know. Hell, she could take my whole hand if we felt like it. But tonight isn't about letting off steam or a one-shot deal. Tonight is the first of many nights. Mornings and days too. Tonight is the start of an inevitable outcome I was foolish enough to prolong for a year. I always knew I'd get Valeria Fuentes. I always fucking knew it.

"Oh my god, you're going to make me come like that," she warns—tempts. "Don't stop. Please don't stop. Holy fuck, Lander."

She cries out as the release crashes over her, her groans melding with the crude, wet sound of my fingers stuffing her tight pussy. I savor the vibrations, indulging in the feeling of her muscles moving and flexing beneath my hand. She's real. She's here in the flesh, undulating against my palm, and not just a combination of pixels on my laptop screen.

She's immaculate.

She's mine.

She's finally mine. It took three carefully engineered schemes to win her over, but third time's the charm.

Slowly, her breathing steadies. The clamp around my head loosens, and I'm able to slide up and kiss a trail from her pussy, along her stomach, up her neck, and to her lips.

She kisses me indulgently, her tongue lining the edges of my lips to clean her arousal from my face. The taste has her insatiable, I know, because her hands slide down my body, under the brim of my jeans, and grip my ass over my boxer briefs.

My turn.

Her hands slide out of my pants and travel up, over my shirt, around my shoulders, and higher. Adoringly, she brings her hands to my cheeks and stares into my eyes.

"Lander?" she murmurs through plump, well-kissed lips, red from the abrasion of her teeth biting down on the lower one.

I nod, transfixed.

"Don't ever fuck with my income again," she whispers slowly, voice raspy, before she gets up and tugs on her shirt. "And stop asking me why I don't date lawyers. You're not getting an answer."

I'm twenty-seven and hot, so I don't have interesting hobbies like listening to records. But right now, I wish I did have a record player, because I very much need the sound of a record scratching.

The figurative record scratches.

"Wait," I mutter, confused as fuck, "did you just—"

"Play you?" she replies while she shakes out her long hair. "Like devil's advocate, baby. Remember this: If you ever keep me from streaming again, I'll leave you with far worse than blue balls."

My jaw lowers. I look pathetic, I bet, but I don't know what else to do. She pulled one over on me—on me. I never saw it coming.

I'm horny, hard as steel, and kneeling alone on my closet floor.

That little schemer.

"Enjoy your party," Valeria quips with well-earned smugness.

She spins on her heel and walks out of my closet. As the door closes behind her, I can't help but release a stunned chuckle and the words I held back earlier:

"I have no doubt in my mind that I'm going to fall madly in love with you."