Dirty Heat (13 page)

In my frenzy, a low moan broke free from the back of my throat. “Jesus! Yes, God!” My clit, my labia, my open sex…all trembled from pleasure; his, mine. The tip of Kyree's tongue danced against
my slit, then over my clit. He urged me closer to orgasm. Trilled his tongue against my pussy, causing my head to pound with the need, want, desire to climax.

My toes curled tight, my fists clenched. The things Kyree can do with his mouth and tongue are magical. Excruciating delight. Boundless pleasure. And almost unbearable. But I wanted more, so much more.

“Oh, God,” I moaned as he sucked on my clit, then used his teeth to nip and graze it, before releasing it with a wet sound. “No, don't stop!”

He rasped, “You want more?”

I sputtered out spit and drool. “Yes.”

He blew on my clit, his ragged breath heating my flared opening, then sucked it back into his mouth and sucked harder than ever before, tonguing me at the same time. My body twisted as my hips bucked wantonly to his mouth.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Sucking me harder, faster, Kyree wrung from me one of the most powerful orgasms I'd ever imagined.

And, just as he promised, I came in a thunderous roar.

•  •  •

“Yeah, my mom can definitely cook,” Jacob says, pulling me from the after-shudders of my reverie. “If a broad ever expects me to put a ring on it, she had better know how to throw down in the bedroom
and
the kitchen.”

I laugh. “Boy, T-M-I.”

He shrugs. “I'm just saying. The way to my heart is not only through my stomach, but through…”

“All right, all right. Enough. I get it.” I shake my head. “And what about you, Kyree? What kind of woman are you looking for”

He looks up from his plate, the answer flashing in his
eyes.
“A woman like you.”
“I'm with Jay, Mrs. Lane. I want a woman…like
you
and my mom combined in one.”

Jacob frowns. “Man, what's up with you sweating my mom. I keep telling you, you need to chill with that.”

Kyree grins. “Man, relax. Stop acting all jealous. You know I'm only speaking truth. Don't get me wrong. My mom is a good woman. And I definitely like whoever I marry to have a lot of her qualities. But she doesn't cook all that good. And I want a woman who does, like your mom.” Kyree looks over at me. “Mr. Lane is one lucky man.”

I shift in my seat, feeling heat spread through me.

“Man, whatever,” Jacob says, oblivious to the fact that I've just wet my panties simply from sitting here across the table and watching Kyree practically make love to his food as if he were making love to
me.
He licks his fork, and that sends more chills rippling along my spine.

I know he is far too young for me. I'm old enough to be his mother, for crying out loud. Yet, I am sitting here undressing him with my eyes, reliving some of my most intimate moments with him. We steal glances at each other, our eyes openly saying what our mouths don't.
I want you. Tonight.

Some would say age isn't anything but a number as long as he's legal. And he is. But others might say that fucking a nineteen-year-old is appalling, but that doesn't stop me from lusting him, from me wanting more of him, from me wanting him to have more of me.

And he will.

•  •  •

Wearing nothing but a pair of black stilettos—heels my own husband hasn't seen me in, desire swells through me as Kyree's
gaze glides over my shimmering body, then clings to my hand as I spread my legs slightly and dip it in between my thighs.

Kyree is sprawled out in the center of the bed, his plump semi-erect dick lying to one side over his thigh.

“Damn,” he whispers. “I bet you're so wet.”

I moan. “I am. Real wet.” My breath catches as I lightly brush over my clit with my fingertips. There's a slow ache pooling in my cunt, a burning need to have him see me spread open to him—for his throbbing cock, my wet, juicy offering to him.

“You teasing me. I want that pussy. Now.”

“What do you wanna do with this pussy?” I spread my legs wider, open my slick, pouty lips, revealing my pink, wet insides. “Fuck it?”

Slowly sinking two fingers between my lips, I gasp.

He grabs his dick, strokes it in his fist. “Yeah,” he rasps. “I wanna fuck it.”

I lick my lips. Watch his manhood come alive. “Mmm. Ooh, yes.” My fingers plunge in and out of my warmth. “What else you wanna do to this wet pussy?”

“Lick it.” He tightens his grip on his dick. “I wanna taste you, baby. Fuck you with my tongue.”

My eyes flicker over into his as my finger lightly grazes my clit. A tremor ripples through me. He watches as I lift my finger to my mouth and slip it inside, tasting myself, savoring my warm, wet, sticky juices.

“Damn.” Kyree crooks his finger at me, motioning me over to the bed. “C'mere. Let me taste it.”

I feel so liberated. Feel so empowered. Feel so alive. Every nerve ending in my body is ablaze. And it's all because of Kyree. He does this to me. Makes the cream in my cunt churn for him.

I moan. “Mmm. Your wish is my command.”

I crawl up on the bed. Squat down low over his face, and allow
him to behold my glistening sex before clamping my knees on either side of his head. His heated breath kisses my pussy lips, and then he sticks his long tongue out, curling it up, then down, then up again in slow, sensual motion. He tells me how pretty my kitty is and how he loves its taste before burying his tongue between my slick folds.

Oooh, yes, yes, yes!
My heart flutters, as my pussy grows wetter with each lick. His tongue works me into a mindless frenzy, sending me hurtling toward the edge of one of the sweetest climaxes.

His thick, banana-curved cock bounces. It beckons me to taste it. To make love to it with my mouth, lips, tongue and hands. The tip glistens with precum. Oh, God! I feel a terrible yearning to suckle the head of his dick. I lick my lips. Reach for it. Lean in to lick it. Take it deep into my wet, greedy mouth. But Kyree catches my wrist, and stops me. He wants me to look. Not touch. He wants to torture me.

I reach for it, again.

“No,” he mutters against my burning flesh, “watch.”

I swallow back hunger and want, eyeing his nectar as it drizzles out of his piss slit like melting donut glaze. He reaches for his dick. Shakes it. Strokes it. Strings of precum streak across his stomach.

I groan my displeasure, but my disappointment is quickly replaced with an overwhelming sensation that pulses through me as his tongue sweeps over my clit, then circles around my cunt. When his sticky tongue goes from my pussy to my asshole, my whole body shakes with unexpected pleasure. My knees almost give out.

“Oh, God!” I cry out. “Yes, baby, yes…oohhh!”

Kyree masturbates, his rhythm matching the strokes of his tongue over my pussy, over my clit, then inside my slit. My mind buzzes, wondering where the hell someone his age mastered the art of cunnilingus.

He licks again, long and hard, right over my clit, then against my cum-soaked hole.

Dear God…

“Aaaaah, yes, baby, yes…”

He pushes a finger into my ass.

Sweet holy Jesus…

My cunt goes into spasms. I buck and writhe, wanting more of his tongue, more of his finger. He strokes his dick with rapid speed, groans into the slit of my pussy. Then comes all over his hand, his dick pumping out waves of hot cream.

Instinctively, I lean forward and greedily lap at his hand, sweeping my tongue all over his fingers. Mmmm. Wanting those wicked fingers. Wanting every creamy drop of him. I squeeze my eyes shut as heat surges through my veins. Then come all over his face.

Heart racing, I flop over onto the bed, turning onto my side and facing him. I prop myself up on one arm. His lips are glossy from my sweet juices. “Boy, where'd you learn to perform oral sex like that?”

He grins. “Books. Porn. And lots of practice.” He wiggles his brows up and down. “And I'm not a boy, babe. I'm all man. Or do I need to remind you?”

I lean over and kiss him on the lips, tasting myself on him. Mmm. I swipe my tongue over his top lip, then suck his bottom lip into my mouth.

His warm hands roam over my body as I crawl up on top of him. Slide my hot pussy up and down over his dick. I am always impressed at how quickly his dick springs back to life. When I have him slick with my juices, I reach beneath me and take him deep into my cunt.

I slowly work him inside of me in a slow steady rhythm, swiveling my hips around and around, bringing my plump ass up high every
time I rotate up his shaft, to the top of his dick, the head slowly peeking out from between my luscious folds before slipping back in, wetting him, keeping him slick.

Kyree moans loudly. “Aaah, shit. Mmmhmmm…damn, baby…”

I lean forward, my pussy quivering and tingling. “You wanted a woman,” I say, sliding my tongue into his ear, “you got it. Now remind me, again”—I slam down on his dick, taking him deeper, pushing him into a wet river of pleasure, fueling the fires of his lust, and my own—“how much of a man you are.”

Kyree grabs my hips, flips me over, pulls my legs up over his shoulders, and responds with a low growl, then begins to coat the walls of my pussy with warm semen.

•  •  •

Several days later, I'm curled up on the sofa reading Allison Hobbs' latest novel with a glass of white wine, unwinding from my day while Sebastian's upstairs taking a shower. We spent the early part of our Sunday working in the yard, before driving into the city for a bite to eat at Taramind Tribeca, an Indian restaurant with towering windows and Brazilian teak located in the heart of Tribeca. I really enjoy my husband's company, so spending the day out with him was a nice treat. I even surprised myself, and him, when I leaned over in his lap, unfastened his jeans, then fished out his dick and sucked him deep into my wet mouth. He was so taken aback by my brazenness that he'd climaxed within minutes, coating the back of my throat and filling my mouth with his thick seeds.

“Damn, baby,” he said breathlessly. “Whatever you're reading in those nasty books, please keep reading it.” He took his eyes off the road, and grinned. “I love this new nasty you.”

I said, “Me, too.” Then slid my tongue over my teeth for any
remnants of his man milk, and settled back in my seat, fastening my seatbelt, smiling inside.

It was a nice way to end not only the evening, but the weekend as well.

Now all I want to do is read a few chapters of this book, then crawl into bed and lie in my husband's arms until sleep claims me.

Ping
. An incoming text. I reach for my phone. Swipe my finger across the screen. And open the message.
I want u tonight

I smile, staring at the message. Slowly, my insides come alive.

Mmm. I want you too,
I type back.

A minute later:
I wanna tongue u

My walls clench.

I want u sooo bad u just dnt kno baby. Sneak out?

Heat sweeps through me. I swallow hard, glancing over at the crystal clock on the end table. It's a little after ten p.m.

My shaky fingers itch to type back to tell him yes. But I stop myself. The rational part of my brain screams for me not to do it. This thing between us has gotten out of hand. It has me lying to my husband. Has me pretending to be someone I no longer am.

Faithful.

Trustworthy.

Grounded.

Worthy.

Of my life with Sebastian.

Deserving.

Of his love.

Yet…

In a matter of one heated text message—
I wanna tongue u
—my pussy aches and pulses, and I am contemplating defying every logical reason as to why I should turn off my cell and ignore Kyree's texts. I am literally sifting through a laundry list of
rationalizations as to why I shouldn't hop in the shower, then crawl into bed with my husband, where I belong. There is no need for me to sneak out to be with anyone else when all the hard dick I need is right upstairs waiting on me.

But the moment I climb the stairs, step into my bathroom, squeeze a dollop of Dial Coconut Water Refreshing Mango body wash onto a rag, then run it under warm water, I am aware of my decision, certain of my destination. I slip into a short skirt and tank top. Slide my feet into a pair of sandals. Then clip my hair in a haphazard twist that leaves skeins of highlighted tresses caressing the sides of my face.

Let's meet,
I quickly text.

Less than a minute later, Kyree texts back.
Fuck U outdoors?

My mouth waters as I read the text.
Yes, I type back. Where?

A few moments later, my cell pings.
Eagle rock?

Mygod! He wants to fuck me in a park!
Eagle Rock Reservation is a wooded, red oak forest laced with paths and hiking trails. Perfect for in-the-middle-of-the-night fucking.

See u in 20mins,
I type before tossing my cell inside my bag.

With keys in hand, I find Sebastian sitting in the den watching the sports channel. I lean in and kiss him on the lips. Tell him I'm running out to the store. For milk. Then head out the door.

It takes me less than fifteen minutes to get to Eagle Rock. Kyree is already here, waiting along a secluded trail, smiling.

Tonight, I'm not a wife. A mother. A homemaker.

I'm a dick-crazed tramp.

A greedy cougar whore.

A cum-slut.

A filthy cradle-robber.

For Kyree's dick. Young and hard and curved. And so very good.

He locks eyes with me, his dick hanging out over the waistband of his sweats, already in his hand. He jerks it.

There's a strong demanding need pounding through my body as I watch him watching me. Kyree with his young, hard dick has done this to me. I reach up and release my hair from the ponytail, shaking my hair out. I warn him, “I'm wet. I'm horny. And ready. So fuck me fast. I only have twenty minutes.”