Starfire (Peaches Monroe #3)(18)
Author: Mimi Strong

His hand started to squeeze and rub me, sending waves of pleasure through my body. Since encouraging him to be forceful, Adrian certainly did have a more aggressive vibe, and I liked it.

He growled, “Tell me how much you like to have your pu**y licked.”

I glanced up in a panic that the kitchen window was open and my neighbor could hear everything. Thankfully, the window was closed.

“I like it,” I whispered.

He squeezed me with more force. “Indulge my fantasies,” he said. “Tell me to lick your pu**y.”

My body writhing, sitting next to him on the kitchen floor, I felt ridiculous. I put my hand over top of his face, forcing his eyelids down with my fingertips. “Adrian!”

He shook his face free of my hand. “Either command me or beg me. Your choice.”

“You filthy boy.”

His face lit up with a grin.

Well, I wasn’t going to beg, so… “I command you to lick my pu**y. Make me come, Adrian. Do it.”

He gave me one last smirk, and then everything happened so fast. I meant to move the party to a better venue, such as my bedroom, but he unfastened my jeans and yanked them down forcefully. He didn’t take them off in a sensible way, either, but rolled them inside out, so the skinny cuffs were impossible to extract myself from. We got one foot out, but not the other, and then I was on my back, knees in the air. Off came the panties in the same manner as my jeans—in a pile around one ankle.

Huffing, I attempted to free my other foot, but Adrian grabbed my legs and dragged me five inches closer to him. My damp, sweaty butt squeaked against the floor, and I almost giggled, but then his face was between my legs and in my muff.

BA-WANG.

“Make me come,” I moaned, feeling dirty again.

His tongue delved into my swollen cleft, and my cl*t cried out a song of joy. Rivers of light and goodness flooded my body, and more was delivered as Adrian’s fingers neared the docking point and entered, gliding easily on the slick wetness.

I arched my back, my head rolling back. Noises between grunts and moans came from my mouth without censor. I peered down to see Adrian on his stomach between my legs, his face hidden to me. His fingers were long and intimate, stroking and enhancing the force of his tongue on my clit. Further along his body, his butt muscles clenched and unclenched in rhythm with his hand, as though he was f**king me. And then, he was. It was still his hand, and his fingers thrusting in and out with urgency, but he was f**king me, and I was being f**ked, and I was coming.

I curled up, my sweating hands flat on the floor beside me, and I stared down at his gorgeous, long body before me as my body succumbed to an immensely satisfying orgasm.

When it was done, I pushed his face away.

“I can keep going,” he said, and I believed it.

I quickly sat up, alarmed about the amount of water between my legs.

“Sometimes things get a little gushy,” I explained.

“No need to explain.” He sat up and shook out his arms, which he’d been propped up on.

“It’s normal for some girls,” I said.

He chuckled. “Really. There’s no need to explain. I’m familiar.”

I squinted at him suspiciously. Had he heard something from someone?

“The girlfriend who liked shopping,” he quickly added.

I pushed myself back from the puddle and threaded my na**d foot back through my underwear and jeans. Adrian took his cue and started to get dressed as well, even though he looked ready for the next round.

As we got back off the floor and surveyed the situation, I wondered what he was thinking. I got some towels and cleaned up the floor while he took the chicken out of the oven and apologized for using up most of the sauce “on some other chick.”

Maybe he wasn’t thinking about anything. I’ve heard that about guys—they can enjoy a blank computer screen inside their mind, whereas any woman will have the equivalent of a hundred windows open, everything going at once. I thought about all the tasks involved in moving the bookstore, the censored version of the evening I would tell Shayla, and about how many calories were in a blowjob when you accounted for the energy used in the blowing. My mind kept whirring. I thought about making some excuse and running out the door, and just running until I didn’t have to think about anything anymore.

CHAPTER 8

After eating our dinner, we moved over to the couch in the living room. Adrian made himself at home, stretching his long legs out and across my lap.

“Don’t be shy,” I said, patting his shins through his clothes.

We’d mostly talked about store business all through dinner, and I was tired of thinking about work. My gaze darted over to the remote control. Watching TV was tempting, but didn’t seem appropriate for a date. Then again, we’d done everything in reverse order, starting off with mind-blowing o**l s*x on the kitchen floor. How did you follow that?

“Swing your legs up here and I’ll rub your feet,” he said.

I lifted his legs with both hands and rotated my body so my legs were alongside his. Shayla and I sat this way sometimes, but she never offered to rub my feet.

He grabbed hold of my toes with his long, strong fingers. My eyes rolled up and I moaned, “Oh, Adrian, that feels so good.”

He kept kneading my feet, which was surprisingly pleasant and nearly as intimate as what had happened on the kitchen floor.

“Is that a new tattoo?” he asked.

I cracked my eyelids open. My ink was covered by my clothes now, but he must have seen the new tattoo inside my hip bone when I was writhing around on his tongue.

“Doves Cry,” he said.

“I was out with friends in LA one night, and pretty wasted. It could have been worse. I could have gotten Adrian Forever in a heart.”

“That would be horrible.” He grinned, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Oh, but it would be. I’d be too embarrassed to let you see, and we could only be na**d together in absolute darkness.”

“What does Doves Cry mean?”

I sighed. “That I shouldn’t do shots.” He kept rubbing my feet, gently pinching each of my toes as though counting them.

I explained, “It also means that everything is fine. I get knocked down, I cry, I get up again. Everything’s going to be okay. Stuff happens to everybody.”

Adrian pushed up the sleeve of his blue T-shirt. He’d ditched his black rock-band shirts that night for a tight-fitting V-neck. He flexed his meaty bicep and turned his arm out to reveal a small, hidden tattoo I hadn’t noticed before.