Heavy Issues by Elle Aycart Page B

undergarment and be done with it.
    She must have seen his intention in his eyes, because she hurried.
    She stepped away from him and quickly shimmied out of her underwear, offering him a view that all but stopped his heart. Man, if she wiggled her ass like that one more time, he was so going to fuck it.
    The last stitch of clothing fell to the floor, and she was finally naked. She tried to turn around and move away from the mirror, but he brought her back to him and plastered his chest on her back, his hungry gaze eating her up.
    She averted her glance and covered her breast with her hands. So prim, so ladylike…so pointless in the big scheme of things. His dick was now the self-appointed ruler of the known universe, and he didn’t care for anything prim or ladylike. Actually, ladylike made him behave more like a marauder.
    “No way,” he said, removing her hands from her body and keeping them at her sides.
    Jesus, she was sexy. Curvy. Soft to his hardness, as she should be.
    “Look up, sweetheart. You’re gorgeous. Perfect.”
    He brushed her nipples. They were hard and puckered. He’d known she was stacked, but with keeping her breasts in those stiff, hard cups and all, he hadn’t realized how plump and soft they were. He cupped the underside of them, carefully hefting them in his hands. Glorious. He hated the hardness of silicone tits, how unnatural they felt to the touch. Not these; these were big, soft, mouthwatering, homegrown tits that he could squeeze and pet to his heart’s content without fearing they’d explode on him.
    “Your tits are the stuff of fantasies.”
    She shrugged. He wanted his lips on those beauties, but that would have to wait. While he pinched and rolled her nipples with one hand, he moved the other down to her pussy, pushing one finger in her. She arched, the walls of her cunt pulsing around him. It was driving him insane how responsive she was, how amazingly good she felt. He gritted his teeth. At this rate he was going to need massive dental work by the time he got laid.
    “You’re small.” Pity he couldn’t come inside her. With her dripping wet from her lube and his semen, he could slide in easier, but he never fucked without a condom—ever. Anyone who did was a brain-dead idiot, and he wasn’t about to join that gang.
    “I’m not,” she said in a retort.
    He looked at her, puzzled. She was curvy, with full breasts and round hips, but in no way big. Or fat, which was what she was probably implying.
    “Yes, you’re small,” he insisted, nuzzling her throat. “Compared to me, you’re just a tiny scrap of a thing. Besides, I meant here,” he said, sinking a second finger into her, her snug muscles right away clamping around him. “You see? Small and snug as a fist.” She was hot and wet, swollen from her previous orgasm, but she wasn’t ready for him. He wanted to bury himself balls-deep in her, and she had to be wetter.
    Eyeing the dresser on his left, which was the perfect height for her to perch that sweet ass of hers on, he backed her to it, sank to his knees in front of her, and pressed his face against her sex.
    “What? No, no!” she shrieked, chest heaving, her glittering eyes frantic.
    Ignoring her panicked reaction, he lifted her leg and placed it over his shoulder.
    “Yes. Eyes on me. Watch me eat you.”
    She squirmed, but with her hips pinned against the dresser, she had nowhere to go. Keeping her swollen folds wide open with his thumbs, he had to stop a second to take her in. Damn, she was pretty. Soft and slick, with that little clit tight and pulsing, and the dark pink hole of her sex begging to be filled, glistening with that honey he was dying to taste. Hungrily he slid his tongue from her opening to her clit and back down.
    “You’ve come on my fingers. Now you’ll come in my mouth.”
    He ran his mouth over her folds, sucking them, gently dragging his teeth over her clit and thoroughly licking and lapping her slit. Her taste was intoxicating.