corner of the sofa. Her grip on him loosened, she reached over her head and grasped the pillows as he raised her up.
Forearms speckled with copper hair formed twin bars across her thighs. As disorienting as it was to be suspended nearly upside-down, it was the lapping of his tongue around her clit that gave her the sense of bobbing aimlessly in a vigorous surf. She tucked her ankles between his shoulder blades and rocked in tune with the hot sweep of his tongue.
He followed the slick trail back down to the mount of her cunt, but Molly wanted no more of his teasing. She slipped one hand along her body and used her fingers to spread herself out as he had done. This time he did as she beckoned. His gaze on her hot face, he dragged his tongue back and forth over her clit and over her fingers.
Now she didn’t care about anything else, not the open curtains or anyone who might be peeping outside, not the pile of crisp bills on the table and how the money was what had brought him there. The only thing in her world was the building heat between her legs.
‘Oh, yes, suck me like that,’ she managed to say through the thickness at the back of her throat.
Another growl poured out of him and through her, into the atmosphere, and she moaned as the suction of his mouth became insatiable. She became light-headed with the rush of blood through her body. Quinn twisted his head, widening his slick mouth and sealing his lips around her.
She couldn’t get enough air in her lungs, and so, as the intensity of his mouth built and built and reached its pinnacle, she stopped breathing.
With a flick of her wrist she clamped her hand over his and dug her nails in, then let her body take over. His tongue revived and danced over her clit. He squeezed her thighs to keep hold of her as she began to buck against him.
On and on it went, wave after intoxicating wave until she drowned in it.
Molly gasped, releasing the last air she had trapped inside her, as the swell abated and left her sensitive. He held on, not as firmly as before but held on nonetheless, and licked down to her throbbing gash.
That decadent tongue fuck began again. She turned her head, and through the splotches of light before her eyes she saw the leaves of paper fluttering with every breath she took.
One hundred … two hundred … three hundred …
She counted with every thrust of his tongue, every penny she had paid him to be here, then closed her eyes.
Down he went and shrugged off her legs, letting her knees hook into his elbows. Through her lashes she watched him study the slippery conclusion of the glorious climax that still throbbed in her clit.
‘When was the last time someone spread you open and gave you a hard fuck? Not a fast one that would rattle the teeth in your head, but a slow screw you can taste.’ He leaned forward, holding her open once more as he beamed that smile at her. She shook her head, and he gave a little shrug. ‘Maybe I was wrong about you. Maybe you want to be bent over with a hand in your hair and a cock stretching your ass.’
‘Must you …’
‘Mindfuck you? I have to admit, I get off on it a little.’ He let her legs drop and dragged her closer. He was suddenly serious, mouth firm and eyes hot. ‘Or maybe you want me to lie back and let you do what you want with me. Women like you can be hard to figure out. You always want one extreme or the other. Why don’t I take you into the bedroom and find out which side of the coin you are?’
Molly sat up and looked down between her legs, at the shining tip of his erection. As sated as she was, the temptation was killing her. She had to muster every bit of resistance in her just to speak.
‘Why don’t we take a breather?’
The tip of that hot tongue touched his upper lip, and something settled in his expression that made her heart pound even faster. He merely held her in place. His cock rested against her belly, and with its urgent throb she felt the need to relent and let him slide deep into the wet passage he’d made.
With a shake of her head, she managed to send some of the ash into the atmosphere, but the fire inside her kept burning. Now that the euphoria he had left her with started to fade, something unpleasant crept up. Unable to look at him, she writhed out of his grip and turned away from his inquisitive gaze.
‘Ah,’ he said at last, and got to his feet as she gathered up the money she’d laid out. There was a change in his demeanour. He had become softer in spite of the hard thing that jutted from the copper curls between his legs. ‘Gone shy on me, have you?’
‘It’s not that,’ she murmured, and resisted the urge to scoot away from him as he sat down next to her. ‘Really, it’s not. That was beyond spectacular, but –’
‘But nothing.’ He took the money from her and reached across her to put it back on the table. ‘If it’s what you need, I’ll stop talking. I’ll do what you say.’
‘I shouldn’t have done that.’ God, did it have to bite so much to say it out loud? ‘I really shouldn’t have done that, but there’s nothing I can do about it now.’
He took her hand, too quickly for her to draw back, and closed it around the crest of his erection. ‘You can let me do it again. You’ve paid for two hours, and you’ve barely used one. You might as well.’
It struck her how genuine and boyish he seemed now when he smiled. There was just the hint of the scoundrel at the corner of his mouth, but otherwise he simply looked pleased as he used her hand, slicked by his precome, to jerk himself.
It was impossible to resist. His magnetism was much too powerful. What was left of her common sense packed its bags and took off and, just like she’d never had reservations at all, Molly squeezed down.
‘Tricky boy.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
That smirk shimmered on his mouth, but was gone again as she kneaded inch after inch.
‘You got yourself all worked up and now you want me to take care of it.’ She twisted her head around and glanced over his shoulder at the digital clock on the table. ‘I suppose I can spare a couple more minutes. The damage is done already.’
Part of her wondered if she had gone mental, jerking off a gigolo she was paying to leave the premises, but as he tilted his head back and closed his eyes, Molly realised that this was one part of sex she had forgotten about, forgotten that she adored: watching a man as his orgasm built and built.
It had been a year and a half since she’d done anything with a partner that didn’t need rechargeable batteries, and the arse-end of her marital sex life wouldn’t have won any gold medals. Lying dormant for all this time had been this compulsion to see what she was doing to him written on a lover’s face.
And this one, well, he was holding nothing back. Eyes closed, mouth slack save for when he pursed his lips to gather moisture, the sound of pleasure poured out of him like he was a faucet she’d turned on. Regardless of how good he’d been with that tongue, his need for release was something that had no price tag.
Intending only to spit into her palm so she could work him a little harder, Molly leaned down. His hand instantly landed on her neck, the pressure urging her mouth closer to his cock. She turned to stone in her resistance, and he immediately relaxed
