18. Cunning Linguist
Flaking out on your best friend’s wedding- or sister’s, for that matter- was a shit move. And if Leila wasn’t still pretty much in charge of all her faculties, she wouldn’t have felt like such an asshole.
A horny asshole.
The way Nate talked had moved right through her and deemed her stupid. Fuck stupid. Or at least she hoped she would be.
To be completely honest with herself, Leila knew she hadn’t felt like having sex since that last time with that utter ass that she had picked up from the bar that one night weeks ago. Now the need was palpable and she could feel her sex twinge and ache between her legs.
For Nate. Yeah, you could have bowled her over with a feather at that point.
Awkward wedding reception fuck aside, she was hoping to come out of her sex funk. The one where her pussy had been as dry as the Sahara since selfish bar asshole had worked her over and put her into a dick drought. The longest one she had had in years.
Like California after seven years of dry winters, she was finally getting her El Nino, and the wetter weather was coming on, hopefully erasing all signs of cracked soil and barren ground. The ground being well.... you know.
At first, she didn’t know if she was following or leading them to a hotel room until she realized they were on their way to the same bed she had slept in with Nate the previous night. She hoped the sheets were ready because they were about to see more action than they had less than 24 hours earlier and all of it would be holy water inducing dirty.
She could giggle she felt so nervous. It was an odd reaction and one she wasn’t accustomed to. She put it down as nerves. Nerves and the fact that this man had already seen her naked and she just couldn’t remember any of it. It was an odd combination of circumstances for her, and she immediately plucked it out of her skull to ruminate on later.
“Do you have your key?” Nate asked softly, looking down at her as they stopped in front of the room Leila was staying in. It was then she realized something she hadn’t heretofore noticed.
“You... do you know you have a slight accent?” she asked, looking up at his mouth as he processed the words coming from hers.
“Probably from living with my parents on top of the fact I spent several years in London,” he told her, a small smile curving his lips upward and melting Leila between her legs. She had a thing for accents and she blamed that for the swollen feel of her breasts and the now constant ache between her legs.
“It’s... really hot,” she told him, squeezing her thighs together to accentuate her readiness.
Nate smile widened and he pressed a kiss to her hand over her knuckles, a whisper of cool breath on her skin making her want to shut her eyes and moan out loud.
“I’ll make sure I talk a lot then,” he told her and watched as her breath hitched in her chest before she pulled out the keycard she had hidden in the hem of her thigh high stockings.
“Sounds... good to me,” she told him and waited for the damned electronic door to flash green. It was the longest half second of her life.
Once the locking mechanism clicked, the two of them were through the door and then, just as swiftly, pressed up against it. That is Leila was pressed up against it, pinned by Nate’s hips digging deeply into hers and allowing very little movement on her part.
“Shit,” she muttered as his lips took hers in a raw, searing kiss that lit up her body like the Griswold’s house on Christmas and setting off sparks that would rival the 4th of July in New York.
With hands cupping her face, his lips parted hers before dipping his warm tongue inside and licking the length of her tongue. It stroked her like she wanted to stroke him and caused her hips to squirm against his, seeking the friction and feel of his length where she needed it most. Between her thighs, preferably parting them with the intimidating appendage he was packing beneath his suit pants and threatening to rip through layers of cloth to get at what it wanted most.
Hips ground into hers as he groaned into her mouth before licking a line down her neck to settle and suck at the crease between her shoulders and neck.
“Nate,” Leila whimpered, damning the needy tone his kisses evoked in her and the wandering hands that were now sliding up the chiffon of her dress. A dress she needed to be rid of, posthaste.
As his fingers skimmed her thighs, Nate’s teeth nipped her lower lip before hushing her.
“Are you wet for me?” he asked, and hell if Leila didn’t want to simply become a puddle at his words. Her pussy was doing a damned good imitation of one at the moment.
“Yes. So wet,” she told him, uninhibited and, as always, unabashed.
A low groan buzzed in Nate’s chest at her words and he fingered the lace at her thigh and fiddled slowly with the snaps of the garter belt. He unlatched them easily as if he had invented the damned things and took her mouth with his again, deepening the kiss after one, then the other snap was unfastened on her right thigh.
“I may have to check that you are,” he told her, starting to unsnap the other side and sliding her hose down her left with warm, capable fingers. “With my mouth.”
Leila gasped at his words, again intrigued and turned on as hell at the slightly different modulation of his words. It was like a drug pushing her to such a dizzying height, she wasn’t sure she wouldn’t come just from the sound alone.
He tossed her pantyhose aside, going for her panties next as he thumbed them down slowly, grazing along Leila’s soft flesh and wishing it was his teeth and tongue doing all the work.
When Leila went to unzip her dress and hurry the process along, she was surprised by a hot breath... there. At the apex of her thighs, a slow inhale and breath out, cooling and heating her up at the same time and ratcheting up the temp in the room by a good fifteen degrees.
A warm mouth sucked at her clit, taking no prisoners before pulling her folds into his mouth and placing torturing licks to her sex from her hole to her clit and latching onto her bud like it was a chocolate fudge brownie and he needed his sugar fix.
“Very wet indeed,” his voice said. It was playful and held the hint of a smirk in it. “But it’s going to get wetter.”
He sucked her up again into her mouth and felt the bud between his teeth before nipping at it and doing a circuit around it with his tongue.
“Fucking sweet,” he said before groaning out her name. “Shit, Leila.”
She shivered, her head tilting back to hit the door slightly with a small thud. She could die up against this wall, Nate’s tongue buried in her pussy and she’d call it a win.
As his mouth worked her dripping sex over, he thought of her sweet taste, one he could only compare to some type of honeyed berry. It was like nectar, ambrosia, and he lapped her up until it was all he could taste. It overcame the Glenlivet and rested there in his throat like a shot of liquor until he was sure he would become numb to it.
Her dress was pulled up and his curly mop of hair was gripped tightly, her hips grinding into his face until he was sure he was covered in her intoxicating scent and wet from her arousal on nearly every inch of his face.
Tongue teasing her, he smiled when her hips moved even more wildly and her nails threatened to cut into his scalp.
“Oh God, please,” Leila moaned out, the voice a light rasp in her throat as she tried to force more from him. More tongue, more friction, more suction, just... more.
“You want to come on my face, Kitty cat?” he asked between long strokes of his tongue on her clit. They pressed all the right buttons in her and already Leila could feel the threatening ball of arousal building deep within her.
“Kitty... what?” she asked. Barely functioning brain cells continued to half-heartedly spark as his mouth and tongue kissed and suckled, stroked and fondled.
“Kitty cat, sweetheart,” he told her, blowing a cool stream of air over her sex. “You have claws sometimes but you’re still soft as a cat’s fur.”
Leila smiled, against her brain’s wishes. It was apt. She was like a cat, all cuddly up front until you pet it too much, making her claws come out.
“Besides, I happen to like to pet this kitty,” he told her and sank a finger into her, curling to stroke her front wall. It stoked the burn inside her higher until she was moaning libidinously and very loudly in the otherwise silent room.
Nate could feel a quiver on his tongue as he stroked and lapped at her and he was sure she would come on his tongue soon. It spurred him on and pretty soon he was buried nose deep in her cunt, his fingers massaging her insides as they clamped around his finger.
“Shit,” Leila moaned, a whimper accompanying it like a duet of passion. “I’m... sweet Jesus, I’m gonna come.”
He sucked her clit into his mouth, adding friction with his teeth and a mind-blowing amount of suction at her sensitive little bundle of nerves.
His mouth rubbed more frantically, adding another thick finger into her and teasing the hard edge of her clit with the tip of his tongue.
It tossed her over the edge and she came spectacularly around his fingers, feeling a gush of fluid cover his fingers as he continued to moved them inside her and draw out the keening wail she gave as she came.
“Fuck!” Leila’s cries could have been heard all the way to the reception and she couldn’t have cared less. Hell, if all of North Korea heard her, she wouldn’t have minded. Perhaps mouths and tongues like Nate’s would have garnered less hostility if he taught the men there to eat their women with as much vigor and abandon.
The cunnilingus that cured the totalitarianism of North Korean government. Eat that Stay Puft Kim Jong-un.
Nate’s lips were suddenly on hers again and the buzz of her zipper sliding down her back accompanied the heavy breaths and moans both were emitting, along with the soft sliding sounds of flesh against flesh.
“Can you taste yourself on my tongue?” Nate asked, his tongue stopping long enough to slide over to her ear, nipping and licking at the flesh just below it. “Taste how sweet you are on my tongue?”
If someone would have told Leila years ago that her best friend’s brother would have been tongue-deep in her pussy and then telling her how sweet she tasted, she would have expired on the spot. That little hint of teenage Leila was swooning at his words and the grown-up was begging for more of his dirty fucking mouth. Preferably on her pussy again. He knew how to work that muscle well.
“Fu-u-u-ck,” she moaned out, the feel of his erection pressing into her again.
By this time she was only in a half-bra, the swells of her breasts spilling over the top as Nate used his hands to tug and unclasp it to drop it to the floor.
“Clothing,” Leila uttered out, a whisper in his ear.
“Take them off me,” he told her. “And quickly.”
His hips allowed for space as he stepped back, his face still glistening from his most recent meal and his suit jacket hanging on his lean frame. Nate may not have the muscles of Ramon or Carl, but he was firm and that went a long way with Leila. She didn’t need some oversized gorilla to get her off. Not when he was packing a python in his pants.
Buttons were undone with deft precision and fabric tossed to the floor before the sound of his zipper pierced the air like a gunshot at the starting blocks.
Shoes were toed off and socks removed as Leila pushed his pants down over his hips and left to drop to the floor.
He stepped out of his pants and immediately latched onto one of Leila’s nipples with his mouth, sucking in the flesh as if siphoning gas from an extremely obstinate car. It definitely got her motor running, that was for sure. And she even purred like a car... or a cat. His kitty cat.
He moved her body with his, edging her quickly back to the bed until he was laying her down on it, keeping his lips perfectly sealed against her breast throughout the move.
Spread out beneath him, Leila looked like a meal. One of his favorites that was oh so bad for you, but you were tired of denying yourself of. And Nate was tired, tired of denying the need for her body. It was one that had festered beneath the surface for years, almost a decade.
If one had gone on a bender after denying themselves of alcohol for years, they would have understood the all-consuming need after the first burning sip.
Nate moved from one nipple to the other, loving the feel of it puckering in his mouth, heeding to his touch and beading up like succulent little pebbles in his mouth.
God, he could drown in her... and almost did. That was until he realized something.
“Shit,” he muttered, letting go of her breast with a pop. “I don’t have any fucking condoms.”