The Billionaire’s Christmas Bride by L. Steele
11
Amelie
What the hell am I doing? Why did I blurt that out?I’d honestly not realized that it was what I had in mind, until he’d commanded me to speak… And hell, when he assumes that voice, that hushed tone which whips through my mind, I can’t stop myself. I have to obey him. But did I have to tell him the truth? Couldn’t I have deflected?
His nostrils flare and his grip on my waist tightens. "Say that again," he rasps.
"I… I…" My throat closes. How can I repeat what had come out in a moment of utter lunacy?
"Complete your sentence," his hot breath sears my lips. My panties instantly dampen. My thighs clench and I can’t stop the small whine that spills from my mouth.
"Ask…and you shall receive." His lips curl. An answering quiver thrums at my center. OMFG! I can’t even… This man… How can I refuse him anything? Why the hell had I agreed to stay…? Is that why I hadn’t wanted to leave? I blink; all thoughts empty from my mind.
"Please," I breathe out. "Eat me."
Even before the words are out of my mouth, he’s flipped me on my back, "With pleasure, Alice." He smirks from above me.
"A…are you my white rabbit?"
"You’ll have to let me know."
I blink, then heat sears my cheeks. Is he alluding to my favorite vibrator? "That’s not what I—" My breath hitches as he slides down my body.
His hard chest presses down on my breasts, my belly, then his head is between my thighs. He shoulders apart my legs, places one of my hands on his ear, then the other on the other side. "Hold on." His eyes glitter.
"What the—"?" I gasp, then tighten my fingers around his ears, for he’s buried his face in my pussy.
He nuzzles my flesh.
I whimper.
He blows on my throbbing core, and hell, but I almost come right then.
"Not yet, Buttercup." I sense his lips curve against my center.
"Don’t…don’t stop," I gasp.
"Hmm," he makes an appreciative sound deep in his throat.
All of my nerve endings seem to explode.
"Which dessert should I sample first, you think?"
"Wait," I gasp.
He peers up at me.
"The arrangement."
"What of it?"
"You said no sex."
"So?"
"Does this count as sex?"
"I thought we already covered this, Buttercup."
"As long as you don’t…uh…you don’t—"
"Sink my dick into your pussy?"
My cheeks flush, "Yeah, no penetration, in the traditional fashion, equals no sex, right?"
"Sure, if that’s how you want to see it."
"I…"
He drags his fingers up my pussy lips.
I huff.
"So?" He smirks.
"Yes…" I force out the word.
He stares back.
"Yes, that’s the definition, for the…uh, the arrangement." I clarify, "As long as you don’t uh, penetrate my puss—eee" The word comes out on a whine for he’s replaced his finger with his mouth. OMG. OMG. A moan trembles from my lips.
"My, my, Buttercup," he mutters against my core, " is this how greedy you are when you bake?"
What the—?I blink. Why is he still talking? Didn’t his mom teach him not to talk when his mouth is full? Why can’t he—?
He raises his head. Cool air envelops the heated, melting triangle between my legs, right before he slaps my pussy. Right on it, across my swollen core, which erupts in a miasma of sparks, that travels out from the contact, up my spine, and explodes behind my eyes. The room tilts. Ohmigod. Sweat beads my brow. The pain fades, leaving behind an ache that swallows me up from the center. "What was that for?" I shudder.
"Answer the question, doll."
"Wh…which one?"
"Should I taste you here?" He dips his head, slips his tongue inside my backhole.
My entire body snaps to attention. All of my pores pop. My chest rises and falls.
"Or here?" He drags his wicked tongue up my slit.
I moan.
"Maybe I should be as greedy as you and not wait?" He fixes that instrument of torture-pleasure, aka his mouth, around my throbbing bud, and I shoot upfrom the bed.
"Wes!" I howl.
He releases my pussy. "You still haven’t answered the question," he rumbles.
"Wh…what?"
"Last chance, babe."
He leans back, and I thrust up with my pelvis, trying to recapture that earlier feeling, honing in on his tongue.
"Well?" he asks. "You need to ask for what you want, darlin’."
Maybe it’s that endearment that makes me crack my eyes open. "All of it," I gasp. "Please lick me, suck on me, thrust your tongue inside my—" I huff, for he’s done just that.
He twists his tongue inside of me and goosebumps flare on my skin. He slides his big arms under my legs, pushes up my knees on either side of my body, then he swipes his tongue in and out of me, and again. He slurps his way down to my backhole and up to my cunt again and again. I cry out, but he doesn’t stop. He slips his tongue in between my pussy lips, samples me like I am the tastiest puff pastry. He bites down on my clit and I scream, dig my fingers into the space behind his ears and yank.
A growl rumbles up his chest and the vibrations swell my core, pour over me like the sound waves from a fucking dinner gong— Wait, why am I thinking with this bizarre metaphor? Except, hell, if I am not ready, I’m going to…
"Come," he growls into my hot, melting core, and I explode.
My climax crashes over me, shoves me up…up…up. Maybe I black out. I force myself to open my eyelids, look down to where he’s still between my legs, my knees splayed out. "Wow," I breathe.
He doesn’t smile back. He stares at me. His gaze unwavering.
"What?" I croak.
"You ready, yet?"
"Huh?"
He drops his mouth, nuzzles my pussy.
I moan, "I can’t."
"I haven’t even started, babe."
"No…no."
He licks my lower lips and pleasure radiates out from my core.
"Oh, my God."
"Hold on," he says.
"What?"
He rises up, grabs my wrists and holds them over my head. He wraps my fingers around the wooden bars of the headboard. "Stay," he commands.
I stare at him. As if I could move.
One side of his lips kicks up; he presses a firm kiss to my lips, then slides down to position his face over my pussy. He grabs my knees, pries them further apart so I am splayed wide for him. I should blush or feel shy, for heaven’s sake. Those are my most intimate parts, served up to him for display; but all I can think is, please… please… please.
"Lick or suck?" he asks.
"Anything, either… Both," I gasp out.
He glares at me.
I shiver… "Anything you want."
"Right answer."
He drops his head and thrust his tongue back inside my melting channel.
"Oh, my God," I whine. "More, please, don’t stop…don’t…" I push myself up and into his face, not caring what he thinks of me. Any restraint holding me back is gone. Poof. All he has to do is touch me and I’ll do anything for him. Damn it, I should have known that… But I’m not sleeping with him.. Yet. I mean, technically this doesn’t count. Like the blowjob… Anything other than full penetration... Yep, that’s it; anything else is fine. It is. "Fuck me with your mouth, please," I plead.
He laughs, "One fuck-me-with-your-mouth, coming up." He releases my knees, only to grip my arsecheeks. He squeezes down and I whine. He pries them apart. What the—? He hauls me up, slips his tongue down and inside my arsehole. Oh, my f’ing god. It’s like nothing I have experienced before. No one…has touched me there, and this man? He slides his tongue into that forbidden part of me… As if, as if… We are lovers. No, fuckbuddies… Not… Anything-but-fucking-buddies, that’s what we are. A giggle wells up, turns into a scream, when he begins to fuck my backhole with his tongue. He thrusts in and out, in and out, brings his hand up to grind his heel against my clit, and that tightness inside of me snaps out, expands… "Wes…" I moan. "Weston…"
He doesn’t answer. He can’t, because his mouth is full of me.
"Wes. Wes. Wes," I chant. Aloud, or in my mind? No matter, if food is a religious experience for me, then his tongue-fucking me has to count as a close second. The orgasm screeches up my legs, up my spine.
He slides his tongue out, replaces it with his finger, another, then shoves his tongue inside my pussy.
"Weston," I scream.
He releases my other knee and grabs my breast, squeezes my nipple so hard, stars burst behind my eyes.
"Oh, my God, I am going to…going to…"
He slips his thumb inside my mouth, at the same time that he crooks his fingers inside my backhole, then tears his mouth from my pussy and growls, "Come."
