Most Valuable Playboy

“The way I see it, if I keep it in my pants, I can still touch you without breaking the vow.”

Her eyes drift to my crotch. “I can’t touch you?”

I shake my head. “This isn’t about me.”

“Cooper.”

“Violet.”

“Are you sure?”

“Look, I want to be totally blunt—my dick isn’t coming out to play. But what part of I want to kiss you everywhere involves my dick? None of it. The things I want to do to you, I want to do with my tongue and my lips. Will you let me?”

She inhales sharply. “Will I let you? How is that even a question?”

“You still haven’t answered me,” I say, as she slips off my lap and scoots backward along the couch, moving her head toward the armrest. I slide her along the rest of the way, laying her flat across the cushions, setting a pillow under her head. I straddle her, my palms by her shoulders. I raise an eyebrow. “Do we have a yes, Violet?”

“Are you really going to do this to me? And I can’t touch you?”

“Do you want to touch me?” I ask, dragging my hard length between her legs. She’s so warm already, and I can feel the heat of her arousal through our clothes.

She answers with a lift of her hips against me. She loops her arms around my neck. “I do want to touch you.”

I bring my mouth to the hollow of her throat. I lick her there, drawing her taste into my mouth, then kiss along her neck, sucking on her jaw until her body arches into me again and again, begging me.

“Another time for me. Let me touch you,” I whisper.

“Yes. God, yes. Please.”

We stop talking about getting hurt, and who’s touching who, and what any of this means once I unbutton her jeans. I tug them down her hips, and each inch is a revelation—of flesh, of curves, of femininity.

“My God, it gets better and better.” Her purple panties are tiny, with illustrations of zebras on them. They’re unbearably sexy and ridiculously adorable at the same time. Like her. I love a good pair of black lace underwear, but I love these because she’s not trying too hard. She is sexy, and she is sweet because she wears purple panties with zebras.

“Victoria’s Secret has some damn cute panties,” she says.

I place my hands together in prayer. “Please God, I’ve been a good boy. Let me help pick next time you go shopping.”

“Let’s see how good you can be,” she says, a naughty glint in her amber eyes.

“Challenge accepted.”

I peel her jeans down the rest of the way, savoring the view of her bare legs. She kicks off the jeans, and as I drag my gaze along her long, lush frame, my hands tremble. I want to do right by her. I want to worship her and make her feel adored.

As I crawl back up her body, my hands trail along her legs, tracing a path up the soft flesh. She shudders in the wake of my touch then gasps when I drag a finger across the damp panel of her panties. My cock is thick and begging to come out. But that’s not in the cards. Tonight is for her pleasure and hers alone.

“Can I convince you to take this shirt off?” I say tugging on the end of her jersey.

She gives me a saucy look. “Doesn’t it turn you on to see me in your number?”

I rise onto my knees and drag a hand over the bulge in my jeans. “Yes. Fucking immensely. But you know what else turns me on?”

“What?”

“Tits. Specifically, your tits. And I want to taste them and suck on them before I kiss my way down your body and settle between your legs, where I plan on introducing you to my tongue. And my tongue is very much looking forward to making your pussy’s acquaintance.”

She laughs. “My God, when did you become so dirty? Wait. Don’t answer. I don’t want to know.”

I wiggle an eyebrow. “You don’t like this side of me?”

She reaches for the bottom of her shirt, tugs it off, then grabs her tight tank top and shucks that off, too. She’s down to a pink bra and purple panties, and I’m about ready to burst. I’m so turned on, wanting her so much. I ache everywhere.

“I love this side of you, actually,” she says, as she reaches her arms behind her and unhooks her bra, letting it fall to the floor.

The heavens part. Angels sing. Her tits are glorious. Perfect teardrops, rosy nipples tipped up, asking to be licked.

“There is a god,” I murmur as I lean in to suck on a nipple.

“Cooper,” she says, starting my name like an admonishment then turning it into a long, low moan of pleasure. “Cooper.”

“You have world-class tits,” I say when I come up for air, palming those beauties. “They’re fucking astonishing.”

“You’ve been checking them out?”

“I have been an admirer of your breasts for a long, long time. They’re my happy zone.”

She smiles and laughs. “Play with them, then.”

“If I’m dreaming, I don’t want to wake up.”

I’m a devoted aficionado of racks, and honestly, I could spend an entire day, hell, a week, staring at breasts. I’ve often lamented the lack of paid jobs in this area, and in my future utopian society, this sort of ogling work will indeed warrant financial compensation. For now, I’ll gladly accept a volunteer assignment gazing at these beauties.

I lavish praise on her gorgeous globes with my tongue. “So sexy,” I murmur as I lick. “So delicious.” I pinch her nipples. “So perfect.” She writhes under me, moaning and groaning and grabbing my head in the valley of her tits. She’s as turned on from this as I am.

I move down her body, drop my head between her legs and kiss her sweetness through the panel of her panties. I can taste her arousal through the cotton. I can feel it on the tip of my tongue. “I don’t think you can wait, either.”

She rocks her hips up into me. “Cooper,” she begs.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Take them off.”

I close my eyes for a second, letting the sheer sexiness of those three words imprint on me. When I open my eyes, I peel her panties to her ankles, and she helps kick them off. There’s something intensely erotic about the way she moves. How she lifts her hips so I can tug her clothes down, making it easier for me to undress her. Like she trusts me. It’s such a small thing, but it says we’re in this together.

I see it in her eyes, too, as I slide my hands up her legs and gaze at her face. Her golden-brown eyes are trained on me—wide and guileless. At one point, she licks her lips, flicking the tip of her tongue over them. I reach her inner thighs, parting them, absolutely in lust with the view of her glorious pussy. One brunette landing strip and the rest is smooth. And there, right there, is where I want to be.

She glistens. My throat burns as my hands inch closer. The sight of her arousal, all silky and wet, is so ridiculously enticing.

I lower my face to her legs and kiss the inside of her thigh. She quivers. I kiss the other thigh. She shudders. “Does that hurt?”

“No,” she murmurs.

I slide my tongue close, so close, right along the edge of her pussy, teasing her. “This?”

“God, no,” she says, lifting her hips, seeking me.

“I told you I won’t hurt you.”

“I know. I didn’t mean like that.”

“I know what you mean.” I press the gentlest kiss to her clit. She draws a sharp breath. “But I want to show you I’ll do the opposite.”