Maisie
Jericho's mouth was on the inside of my thigh, lifting my leg over his broad shoulder. The first slow, wet drag of his tongue from my entrance to my clit made my back arch and I gripped his silver hair like it was the only thing keeping me tethered to the earth.
He groaned against me like I was the best thing he's ever tasted. The deep vibration rolling straight through me until I whimpered helplessly. His tongue was relentless, pushing inside me with shallow, teasing thrusts, then sliding up to circle my swollen clit.
It was exquisite torture. My thighs began to shake. I tangled my fingers tighter in his hair, tugging, desperate for more, desperate for relief.
Then a wall of heat pressed against my back. Large, calloused hands cupped my breasts from behind, squeezing and weighing them possessively.
