Final Call (Call #2)(21)
Author: Emma Hart

My ni**les harden almost painfully inside my bra as he continues his journey down. A gentle breeze caresses me when the dress is pulled over my ass. It pools at my feet, my body finally free from its restraints.

Aaron’s tongue licks a lazy path just above my thong from hip to hip. I push my hips into him, reaching forward to steady myself.

His hands shoot out and grasp my wrists. He bends my arms around my body and pins my hands to the bottom of my back. I can’t move despite my best efforts. His grip is too strong and steadily certain.

“Let’s make you deliriously mad, baby.”

Chapter Nine

He brushes his nose across my mound and flicks his tongue against me. The sensation is rough through the lace of my thong, and it makes me jerk and whimper at the same time. He flattens the end of his tongue over my clit and rubs repeatedly in slow circles. The lace grazes over me, heightening the pleasure he’s giving me.

My knees give out, bending a little at a jolt of pleasure shooting through my pu**y. Aaron lets go of me with one hand and cups my ass, righting me.

“Stay standing.” His voice is raw.

I lock my knees in place. He slides my thong down my legs, leaving it hooked around my ankles, and encourages me to open my legs a little. I do it, unable to do anything but what he wants.

Unable to do anything but release the low moan in my throat when his mouth covers my pu**y completely.

My hips push into him, pull away, thrash, and twist. He continues his gentle onslaught against me with his tongue. No part of me is unexplored, no part untouched by the gentle swipe of his tongue.

He squeezes my ass in time with every movement his tongue makes. My legs bend again at the heat building inside, and his squeeze becomes a sharp slap.

“Stand!”

I moan in pleasure and frustration as I fight my natural response. I shouldn’t be standing as this pleasure ripples gently through me. I should be collapsing, ready for the final hit. The leg-trembling hit that I’m not supposed to be standing for.

I explode on that final thought. I cry out, only held up by Aaron holding me in place. His tongue continues to work against me even as my hips thrash against him. My eyes close, and my whole body is tight. He keeps his mouth on me until the final wave sweeps through me and leaves me quivering against him.

He lowers me to him and wraps my arms around his neck. His arms go around me, strong and assured, and he carries me from the room.

“What are you doing?” I say against his neck. Unable to resist his pulse pounding before my eyes, I close my lips over the throbbing spot and suck lightly.

He groans, his body going taut, his step faltering. I smirk at it. I love eliciting that response from him. I love bringing him to his knees.

“I’m not f**king you anywhere other than my bed.”

He drops me on it unceremoniously, and I scramble against the soft sheets, wearing only my bra and my heels.

“Nowhere else?”

Aaron removes his clothes, keeping his eyes on mine, and stalks toward me. With his hands either side of me, he leans forward on the bed until he’s right over me.

“Just for tonight. There are plenty of surfaces in this house just waiting for me to lay your gorgeous body back on while I f**k you senseless.”

He unclips my bra, and after sliding it down my arms, he whips it from beneath me. It flies across the room, hitting the wall with a small thud before falling to the floor. I pull my gaze from the bra and find the pools of unadulterated lust staring down at me.

“Even that wall?” I whisper.

He trails his hands to my thighs. “Even that wall.”

“What about the kitchen side?”

“All of them.”

“The sofa?”

“Every cushion.”

He pushes the end of his c**k inside me, and I feel the pull in my muscles as they stretch to accommodate him and let him in farther.

“And the desk?”

Aaron reaches behind his back and hooks my ankles together. He leans over me slowly, lowering his body on top of mine, and bites my bottom lip gently. “Especially the f**king desk.”

He fills me in one swift thrust. I throw my head back at the exquisite feeling of having him inside me, of being fully around him and connected to him. Of having his breath hot against my cheek and the tightening of his jaw as I tilt my hips up, letting him drive deeper into me.

His thrusts are hard, each withdraw as slow as the last, and the mixture of them repeatedly begs my body to respond. He sinks deeper until he hits the end of me. A strangled cry filled with pleasure and pain escapes me, and Aaron growls in his throat.

He slides his hand to the small of my back and holds my hips up as the slowness of a moment ago dissipates into a frenzy of hard pounds that pushes a moan from me with each one. I grip his back, my whole body lifting from the bed aside from my shoulders.

My muscles clench as the orgasm approaches. As my deliriously mad oblivion creeps up on me, ready to explode and shatter any semblance of rationality into nothing.

“Dayton. Fuck!” Aaron growls against my jaw.

“Fuck!” I arch into him, and he takes my mouth roughly. My nails drag across his skin, and he takes my bottom lip between his teeth and tugs in payback.

That undoes me.

Muscles I didn’t know I had constrict with the sheer force of the pleasure assaulting my body. I vaguely hear Aaron’s curse as he comes through the pounding of my heart in my ears. He’s buried in me to the hilt, and my pu**y is clenching and clenching and clenching, drawing everything from him, drawing my own out.

His lips take mine tenderly, and he kisses me this way until my body goes limp beneath him.

Without a word, he lifts me and carries me into his bathroom. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I register the same neutral tones that are prevalent throughout the apartment, but I’m more interested when he sets me on the side of the bath and starts to run the taps.

I’m too tired to ask what he’s doing. Why he’s running a bath at whatever time it might be.

I watch the tub fill up with hot water, the bubbles steadily growing. Aaron kills the taps when it’s half full and steps in. He swings my legs over the side, making me smile, and pulls me in with him.

He sits in front of me, my legs resting over his, and I lean into him. I wrap my arms around his waist and close my eyes, focusing on the beating of his heart beneath my cheek.

The rhythmic beat is as soothing to me as the water. The feeling of his body against mine is as comforting and grounding as submerging myself in the depths of the bath. It’s more freeing than swimming endless lengths of a pool.