I climb up after him, swing a leg over his face, and plant my knees on either side of his head. Then I go down a little.
“When I say sit, you f*****g smother me. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I whisper.
I start to lower myself again, hesitating just enough that my center brushes his nose.
“You’re not listening,” he growls.
Then he grips my hips and pulls me all the way down.
The first swipe of his tongue makes my thighs tremble.
I grind against him without thinking, moaning as his mouth devours me. He doesn’t lick. He feasts. Tongue flat and firm, then pointed and teasing. My hips start moving on their own, rubbing me deeper into his face.
He groans into me, and I nearly collapse.
Lifting me up a little, he says, “Put my d**k in your mouth, Sloane.”
I lean forward, reach between us,
