24. Adam

24

ADAM

I t’s a beautiful thing to have Natalie Bennett’s outraged gaze be the result of denied orgasm and not, for once, the mere fact of your existence.

I’m enjoying this very much.

I eye my handiwork: her perfect little tits flushed from my hands, sweet little nipples hard as marble, princessy ponytail nicely mussed.

It’s a truly excellent start.

‘I think you want to take it off,’ I say cajolingly. ‘Your panties, too. I think you want to show me what you’ve been hiding under all that lovely tulle. I think you want to see for yourself just how controlled I can be when you’re standing naked and perfect in front of me. And I think you want my mouth on that delicious little clit of yours, too. Imagine how good I can make that ache feel.’

From the way she lets her eyelashes flutter downwards for a moment, I’d say she’s imagining, all right.

‘Do you spend all your time strong-arming people into doing things they don’t want to do?’ she asks. ‘Because it certainly feels like it.’ But she arches her hips off the wall and reaches behind her. God, do I adore this sulky, huffy facade.

But her words have a sting to them, and that sting gives me pause, because she’s not wrong. I narrow my eyes, my glib flow of filth halted. ‘How the hell else do you think I got myself from a shit-hole prison to where I am today?’ I ask her. ‘Pretty much the only thing I know how to do is hustle. But if I’ve misjudged this and you don’t want to be here, be my guest.’ I jerk my head towards the door.

It feels like a standoff, with her arms frozen behind her and her eyes molten with… what? Rage? Disbelief? I’ve called her bluff and I’ve very possibly shot myself in the foot, too, by drawing her attention to the very reason she doesn’t want to do this with me. My dick throbs and my heart hammers behind its bars of bone.

Then her arms move behind her, and a zipper rasps.

‘I want this,’ she says, quietly but clearly, her eyes still fixed on me as she lets her skirt float to the floor in a soft black cloud of tulle.

The little beauty.

‘Glad to hear it,’ I grit out, taking a step towards her, my eyes going straight to her plain black cotton panties.

‘They’re not very—attractive,’ she says with a self-conscious little laugh that kills me.

I slide my hands over her hips, thumbs brushing the fabric at either side. ‘Every single thing about you is attractive,’ I tell her, and I sink to my knees in front of her. My mouth lands between her breast bone and her navel, and I kiss the velvety skin there as my hands explore, skimming over her hips and getting a good feel of her spectacular little bottom.

I squeeze it as I dip my head and run my nose over her fabric-covered pelvic bone, and I’m rewarded with a soft sigh from her. She puts her hands on my shoulders and flexes her fingers while I waste no time in inhaling the sweet musk of her arousal. ‘Fuck, your cunt smells amazing,’ I growl against her, and her moan is music. ‘Take them off.’

She releases my shoulders and hooks her thumbs into the fabric. I’m getting far too much pleasure from having it be her, and not me, who reveals this part of her to me, but I’m also in too much of a rush. As soon as she bares her pussy, with its neat triangle of hair, I tug her panties the rest of the way down her gorgeous legs until they’re on top of the tulle.

‘Jesus Christ.’ I glance up for the full effect: Natalie staring down at me, her breath coming more quickly, her face flushed with arousal and anticipation and probably vulnerability and those lovely little tits of hers heaving. This beautiful woman hates me, yet she’s permitted me to get her naked, and the enormity of what I’ve persuaded her to do to hits me afresh.

Do you spend all your time strong-arming people into doing things they don’t want to do?

Let’s fucking prove to her once and for all that this is what she wants.

‘You are breathtaking,’ I tell her. ‘I knew you would be, but… Hold yourself open for me, sweetheart, and give me your leg. I need a taste.’

‘Oh my God,’ she says, her voice tremulous. But she’s clearly established that being a good, obedient girl for me is her best path to getting what she thinks she wants, which is probably a shameful, cataclysmic orgasm and, presumably, closure.

She’s deluded if she thinks she’ll get this heat between us out of her system that easily, but I’ll play ball. She slings a leg over my shoulder and steadies herself, sliding one hand over my ear and into my hair before reaching down and opening her lips up for me.

It’s a sight I’ll take to my grave. Her fingers make a V, exposing that lovely little pink pearl for me, and it’s so swollen and glossy already.

I’m addicted before I even bend my head to taste it.