Dirty Girl (Page 45)

His eyes gleam as he releases his grip on my hair and lands a strike on my left cheek. The burning sting that I’ve become well acquainted with under Cav’s hand warms my skin, and heat builds between my legs.

Three more sharp smacks come before he stops.

“Spread your legs,” he orders.

I follow his command, uncaring who could see the depraved sight of me bent over the table, Cav turning my ass red.

“Finally, my dirty girl is following orders. Almost makes me feel guilty that I’m going to do this.”

As my mind struggles to keep up with his words, a whoosh of cold air rushes toward my clit and Cav’s palm connects.

“Ahhh!” I jerk against the table, but I’m pinned in place by Cav’s hand in my hair and I can’t move any further.

When his hand comes back, I tense, but instead of delivering another strike, he cups my pussy.

“When I tell you I want your ass on the table and legs spread so I can eat this cunt, the only question you should be asking is how wide. Understand me, baby girl?”

His expression dares me to contradict him, followed by a smirk of triumph. He can feel the wetness his filthy words produce dripping onto his palm.

Dammit. How can I protest something he knows turns me into a panting mess?

Cav’s thick fingers stroke my clit, and my hips press against them, wanting more pressure. More everything. Without warning, he pulls back and delivers another slap to my clit.

This time it’s my moan echoing across the water, and I’m shameless because I don’t care who hears me.

He circles my clit with one blunt fingertip. “Now, what exactly am I going to do with you tonight? Fuck your face? Pound into your pussy so you’re still feeling me when we sit down for dinner tomorrow night?”

The daring devil inside me speaks before thinking. “Yes. All of it.”

His thumb slides back toward my ass. “And this. You’re ready for a hard cock up this tight little ass.”

Heat zings from my hard nipples to my clit, and I’m equal parts terrified and excited.

Bold, Greer. Grab every moment you can.

“Yes. To everything.”

Cav’s groan is gratifying, but I miss his fingers as soon as he moves them away.

“Wha—” The question on my lips is cut off as he pulls me off the table to a standing position, only to pick me up once again and sit my ass on it.

“Wide.”

One word. One order. That’s all it takes for my body to respond to him in ways it has never responded to another man.

I’m so screwed. But at least I’m going to enjoy it.

I spread my legs like the shameless dirty girl he calls me as Cav lowers himself to his knees and grips each of my inner thighs with a palm.

“Fucking beautiful. I love the taste of this sweet pussy.” And he devours me.

Some men only pretend to love to eat pussy, but Cav is the real deal. Lips, teeth, and tongue—he uses them all to bring me to the edge. I clutch his head with both hands, as though I’m afraid he’s going to try to move before I can grab the orgasm hovering just out of reach.

But he doesn’t disappoint. Cav never does when it comes to my pleasure. A fingertip teases my opening before pushing inside and stroking forward, hitting that spot.

“I’m—ah—”

He growls against my clit, and the vibrations coupled with the pressure on my G-spot take me where I need to be. My orgasm beats through me faster and more intense than the crash of the waves on the shore.

I release my grip on his head and fall forward, catching myself on his shoulders.

Cav pulls back. “Fuck, I love how responsive you are. Every time, you just throw yourself into it without holding back.”

Releasing my inner thighs, he begins to rise. Before I know what he’s planning, his shoulder presses to my stomach and he tosses me up and over it. My dress flies up, and Cav steadies me with a hand on my bare ass.

“We’re moving this party to the bedroom. No more free shows.”

I toss Greer onto the bed and her body splays on the white coverlet crossways. Supplies I gathered earlier are in the nightstand. Rope. Lube. Black blindfold. I pull them out of the drawer and set them on the top.

I’ve never been ashamed of my kinks, but for all these years I’ve wondered how Greer would react to them. The verdict is in—she’s fucking perfect. Right down to the way her eyes widen at the sight of the rope.

“What are you doing with that?”

“No questions. Yellow to slow down and red to stop. You understand?”

I study her reaction carefully, pleased when her pupils dilate and her skin flushes pink. I curl a hand into the skirt of her dress and drag it up her body.

“Arms up.”

Greer doesn’t hesitate, following directions like she was born to. My cock hardens further at the sight of her naked skin.

“No panties and no bra? You really are a dirty girl.”

She opens her mouth to say something, but closes it again.

“You can speak, baby. You just don’t get to question what I’m going to do with you.”

A mischievous smile tugs at her lips. “I wanted you to have easy access.”

“I always knew you were a brilliant woman.”

Her cheeks flush a deeper pink at my compliment, and I want to see that color painting her whole body.

I snag the rope and uncoil it. It’s not exactly up to my normal standards, but it’ll work. I want her to know exactly how it feels to be bound and at my mercy.

Moving around the bed, I bring her wrists together and wrap the soft rope around them, binding them and leaving a long tail wrapped around the center between her hands, which I use to tie off on the bed frame. She has enough give to move some, but not far, and by design, I can flip her from front to back without putting more tension on her bindings.