Page 48 of Something Spontaneous

“There’s my fucking Bunny.” He growls the nickname that he originally gave me and I used later for myself in my own way. “I can think of another way to shut myself up.”

He grabs my hips and pulls me to the edge of the hood. His calloused hands run up my thighs and under my skirt, hiking it up and over my waist.

“Fuck,” he says reverently under his breath, staring down at my bare pussy. His thumb rubs circles over the tattoos on my thighs, and I reach toward the bulge in his sweats. My pussy clenches when I feel his length through the soft fabric, remembering how substantial he is and how he could fill me.

His eyes flit to mine, and he shakes his head. “Oh, no. We’ll get there, but we’re starting with you first.”

“Really?” I say. “I’m pretty sure I said stop talking and fuck me, Sly. Don’t be a little bitch.”

“You can call me whatever you want when you’re coming. You earned that, but don’t forget that it’s me that’s getting you off.” He slowly lowers to his knees between my legs and looks up at me with nothing but carnal intent. “Now, do you mind? Don’t think you can stick your panties in my mouth and not let me have a taste.”

He wastes no time. His tongue finds my aching clit, and I’m lost as I finally get some sense of the stimulation and friction I’ve craved. It’s such a relief, and any angst I was feeling melts when he groans and swirls his tongue around my swollen bundle of nerves. His hands grip my hips tighter, pulling me closer to him and making my heated skin squeak across the metal underneath me. I watch his eyes close, and he laps at me like he’s dying of thirst and my pussy is his oasis in the desert. Some form of common sense finally takes hold of my brain, and I simply enjoy it, letting him drink me in as his tongue works.

The scene in front of me is so visceral and primal. I can hear how wet I am as he licks and nips, and there’s nothing shy about what he’s doing now. The soft moans and grunts he’s making wind up that coil of tension and need low in my belly. I know I’m already getting close, but I’m going to need more. I might be worked up, but even he can’t get me off that easily.

He knows it too, and I both love and hate that.

His fingers trail down my bare thighs, leaving goose bumps in their wake until he hooks his hands under my knees. Then he hikes my legs over his shoulders, shifting the angle of my hips and giving him better access to me. His mouth, and that unfairly skilled tongue, never stop working, taking long, languid strokes over my clit before circling my entrance. Every time he moves, I feel his beard against the slick skin of my thighs, only adding to the thrill and driving my need higher.

He’s teasing me, building me up and up. I don’t know how much more I can take. I want him to push me over the edge so I can get this impending orgasm—and him—out of my system.

I dig my heels into the muscular flesh of his back, trying to pull him closer. His muscles flex and tense under my calves, but he doesn’t move. Instead, he lets out a low laugh against my pussy, and the reverberation only adds to the infuriating tease that he is right now.

“No, no. Not yet, Bunny.” He tsks, his eyes finding mine for a brief moment, and I see the pure, unfiltered lust looking back at me. “We’ve both waited years. I think we can both wait a little bit longer.”

I want to be mad at him, but this feels so satisfying—absolutely maddening, but equally delicious. Even I don’t have the self-control to edge myself like this, denying myself the pleasure I chase. Something about hating him, being mad at him, and letting him have that control right now not only makes me frustrated but also enjoy this so much more.

“Why?” I pant. “What do I need to wait f⁠—”

His tongue swipes over my clit, and then he answers my question, plunging one of his fingers into me, curling it, and hitting the exact spot I need him to.

“Fuck.” I gasp and grab for his hair, but it’s cut so close that my nails only graze his scalp. I settle for cupping the back of his head, finally pulling him tighter against my body. “Please, just like that.”

He moans his approval, looking up at me when he adds another finger.

CHAPTER 20

SLY

This Might Break Me

“I know you’re needy, but I wanted to make sure I get to feel your tight cunt come around my fingers,” I say, locking eyes with Josie as I slide in a second finger.

I know she said she hates me—that she has no feelings for me—and if she means that, I can live with it because she’s earned the right to feel that way. I was a stupid kid and thought I was doing the right thing. I gave the best thing that’s ever happened to me the excuse she needed to leave and have the life she deserved.

The years I spent coming to terms with that—an endless string of sleepless nights and days of self-loathing and regret—were meant to slowly dull the ache of letting her go one day, one hour, one minute, one second at a time, and maybe if I got lucky one day, I’d get over her. Today is going to set that clock right back to fucking zero because the taste of her—feeling her wet pussy clench around my fingers while she’s laid out over the front of my car—is going to remind me exactly what the stupid younger version of myself let go. In fact, I think her stubbornness and independent streak are reminding me that it was foolish to think that I’d ever get over her.

If there’s any saving grace of her getting stuck in Sterling Springs, and catching her sneaking into my garage, it’s that I get a chance to see if she’s felt an ounce of the longing that’s haunted me for years. If not, at least she can get me out of her system, because tasting her again is enough to tell me that I’ll never get her out of mine.

That’s exactly what I want to see right now—I want to see her completely let go and come apart.

I curl my fingers and plunge them deep in her with the rhythm I know she needs. She whimpers and tilts her hips forward, pressing her wet heat against my mouth. I reward her, flattening my tongue and increasing the pressure each time I flick her swollen clit. Her pussy starts to clench down on my fingers, and I know she’s so goddamn close for me. I run my other hand up her side and under her tank top.

“Fucking hell, Bunny,” I growl against her clit when I feel the cool metal of one of her pierced tits against my rough palm. In the back of my head, I knew they were there because I’ve seen her on camera. Feeling them, though, is almost enough to make me blow like the horny teenager she probably remembers. I was always obsessed with her full tits, and this takes it to another level.

She puts her hand over mine and presses down, and I know what she needs. She always had sensitive nipples and loved when I played with them. If I had the time with her that I wanted, I would make her come from only touching them.

Knowing how close she is, it’s not going to take much. I circle her pebbled nipple with the pad of my thumb and hear her suck in a breath. Then I gently squeeze, because I’m not sure how much pressure is right with her piercings. Carefully, I tug on the small hoop, the way I’ve seen her do in her videos.