Free A Hot Mess by Christy Gissendaner

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    “Dylan!” She cried out as a tight coil of desire threatened to snap inside her. “Stop.”
    He lifted his head and gave her a cocky smile. “I want to taste you, Cait. Come for me.”
    “Oh, God.” She buried her head beneath a pillow and muffled the sounds she made as she thrashed upon the bed.
    Dylan put his hands under her thighs and brought her legs up higher, pinning her in place as he continued his erotic torture. Cait could not lift her hips more than an inch or so. Being at his mercy increased her pleasure tenfold.
    Cait’s muscles tensed, and then she cried out, her entire body focusing on a tiny pinpoint of intense pleasure. It was as if every molecule in her body migrated to one small square inch of space that surrounded her clit. Her inner muscles spasmed, yet Dylan continued to lick. The aftershocks of orgasm rocked her body, and his continued assault made her thighs tremble with both pleasure and pain.
    “Stop, Dylan. It tickles!” Cait tossed aside the pillow she’d covered her face with and tugged on one of his ears.
    Dylan stopped and lifted his head. His eyes were dark with passion. He moved until he was kneeling between her legs. She thought he would fuck her then, but he continued to look down at her.
    Cait clamped her legs about his waist and gave him a wary look. “What’s wrong?”
    He shook his head as if he were amazed. “Nothing. I just love seeing you like this, your hair thrown about you in wild abandon. Your face flushed from release. It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful.”
    Cait put her elbows beneath her to push partway up. “You’re so full of it, Dylan.”
    “No. I’m completely serious. Here, I’ll show you. Wait right here.”
    Dylan pounced off the bed and strolled across the room. Cait watched him as he walked, his bare buttocks flexing with each step he took.
    She turned on her side and propped her chin in her hand as he bent over and pawed through his bag. “What are you looking for? Not that I’m not enjoying the view, of course.”
    Dylan pivoted and gave her an upside-down smile. “Quit looking at my ass, Cait.”
    “I can’t help it.” She giggled.
    Dylan turned back to his bag and withdrew his camera case. Cait immediately squealed and dove under the covers. “Ohhh, no! Don’t even think about it, Dylan.”
    She heard the padding of his bare foot on the carpet, and then the sheet was wrestled from her grasp. His gorgeous face appeared before her line of vision.
    “Let me photograph you, Cait. I want you to see what I see when I look at you.”
    Cait motioned to the expensive camera in his hands. “Does that thing come with an airbrush tool? Because I can guarantee that’s the only way you’re going to photograph this girl right here.”
    “Chicken, Cait?” Dylan’s eyebrow cocked up. “Bwaaack.”
    “Seriously, Dylan? You’re going to make chicken sounds at me? Are you ten years old?”
    “I think you and I both know I’m not ten.” Dylan gave a pointed glance down at his still-erect cock.
    Cait’s mouth went dry. It was so tempting to reach over and stroke him, but she had to keep her hands on the sheet to keep him from pulling it off her completely. “Come back to bed.”
    “Not until you let me shoot you.”
    Dylan put the camera to his eye, and the lens made a clicking sound as it zoomed in. He pressed a button, and the shutter sounded as the flash went off.
    “Dylan!” Cait tossed a pillow at him, careful not to harm the camera. “Cut it out.”
    Dylan lowered the camera and appeared to study the digital screen. “Your eyes were closed, Cait.”
    She stuck out her tongue, and he managed to take another pic. “You are so wrong for that.”
    Dylan’s lips curved into a satisfied smirk as he looked at it. “Well, your eyes were open in that one at least.”
    “You’re not funny.”
    “I happen to think I’m very funny.”
    “Well, you’re not.” Cait held the sheet to her breasts and slid to the edge of the bed.