I think Penny wants this as bad as I do. With each sweep of my tongue, I taste the same hunger burning within her.
When she pulls back to catch her breath, there's fire in her eyes. She’s a fucking vision. That sexy red lipstick she wore is now smeared around her mouth. Her flawlessly done hair is now a mess. Her green eyes are wide and shiny and dazed.
It all makes me feel so damn wild.
Fuck—I'm gonna drive this woman crazy tonight.
22
Penny
I still can't believe it's Walker's lips.
On my throat.
My collarbone.
My chest.
He's kissing me all over as his big hands lower the neckline of my dress. He breathes against my throat. "Gosh, Penn. Your skin is fucking soft. You're softer than I ever imagined."
"You've imagined me?" My voice is so breathy. My hips grind back and forth as I drag my mound up and down the length of his stiff cock.
"Of course I've imagined you, P." He kisses me some more. "I'm sure every man who's ever met you has imagined touching you. Do you know how fucking beautiful you are?"
His touch. His kisses. His words.
This is everything I've ever dreamed of. But Walker is my best friend. He'd do anything, say anything just to put me at ease, to help me navigate this weird, new situation. He doesn’t really mean it…Does he?
Still, a response lingers on the tip of my tongue. I want to tell him that his mouth on my skin is turning my insides to sticky toffee, that the scrape of his stubble is driving me wild, that his hands on my body is what I've wanted half my life.
Instead, I rake my fingernails across his scalp and arch my spine. He diligently kisses a circle around my aroused nipple before taking it into his mouth. I mewl, throw my head back, lock my thighs tighter around his waist. He gifts me with a soft bite then moves to my other breast with equal attention. His palms trail down my back.
The man isn't even inside me yet and already, I feel like I'm going to die. The pleasure is so acute, so intense.
He moves his lips up the side of my neck to find my earlobe. His breath is warm against my skin. "Tell me what you want. Tell me what makes you feel good."
Suddenly, I don't know how to breathe. "Walker, I..."
His hand is between my thighs, a single finger trailing lazily along the lace trim of my panties. I arch instinctively, pressing my damp crotch into his palm.
"Tell me. Don't be shy, P." His dark eyes rake my body. He licks his lips. "I'm down for anything."
Realization slams me. Shit—My best friend is a freak.
I should have known. Aunt Lucille has always said that the quiet ones are the dirty ones. I'm starting to think that might be true.
And I'm not one to pass up an opportunity. I'm fumbling and dazed but I manage to push the words out anyway. "Eat my...eat my pussy..."
The mischievous glint in his eyes makes my thighs quiver. "I can definitely do that..."
He slides out from beneath me and eases me onto the couch. I watch him lower himself to his knees. His hands are back under my skirt. His coarse fingertips bruise my skin as he slowly pulls my panties down my thighs. Electricity shoots through my lower belly. I'm holding my breath.
He senses my tension. He soothes me by dotting kisses on my belly button, my hipbone, my inner thigh. "Relax, Penn. I'll take care of you. I'll make it good for you."
Fuck—how does he know me so well? How does he know exactly what I need?
Walker spreads my knees wider and his handsome face disappears between my legs.
He inhales me and groans. He plants a single kiss against the lips of my hot, throbbing pussy. With thick, long fingers, he spreads my folds apart before dipping his middle finger inside me. He's licking me now, soft and slow and I feel like I'm losing my mind. I grip the edge of the couch. Oh my god, I am so fucked...
“Is that good, Princess?" He looks up at me, his mouth wet, his eyes dark with lust and reverence. "Tell me I'm making you feel good." He licks me some more.
"Oh god, yes. Yes, Walker. Yes, yes, yes."
My ass is hanging off the edge of the couch. My fingers are gripping the tatty cushions. My best friend's face is buried between my legs and he's devouring my pussy.
"So good," I whisper, rotating my hips. "It's so damn good."
He takes his time, with his fingers and his tongue, slowly discovering the intimate parts of me he's never gotten to see before.
He slips his big rough palms beneath my ass and raises my pelvis closer to his mouth. "Grind on my face, Penelope. Ride my mouth."
I plant my feet on the shaky coffee table behind him and I gyrate my pussy on his face. With my weight balanced on my elbows, I look down at the head of short dark hair buried between my legs. "Oh my god, Walker."
I am fucking soaked. Walker's face is drenched. The couch cushions are saturated. But the man is still drinking me, consuming me like he's trying to drain my five senses from my body.
His lips clamp shut around my clit and the man pulls an orgasm from the deepest corner of my soul. I lose my sense of hearing, my sense of sight and my vision goes black as the orgasm tears through my being. Shock zips and zaps throughout my entire system.
Still shaking, I grab him by the shoulders and pull him to me. I bend forward and kiss him with urgency—suck my own juices from his mouth—until the very last notes of the orgasm fade from my limbs. Then, I'm a hopeless pile of lust on the couch, unable to move an inch.
Walker scoops me up and rises to his feet with barely any effort at all. By instinct, my
