Free Dirty Secrets by Evelyn Glass Page B

reaching for it with her free hand.
     
    “Did you just drop me?” he asked, laughing.
     
    “Sorry.” She should take her fingers away, she should stop and apologize properly, but the vision of his eyes closing with delight as he tasted her wouldn’t leave her brain, and her fingers were on auto pilot now.
     
    “Here I am, licking you senseless, and you drop me on the floor,” he laughed again. “You owe me.”
     
    “Anything,” she said.
     
    “I want to hear you count down from one hundred to one. I want you to keep touching yourself, and I want you to keep from coming until you get all the way to one.”
     
    Her fingers did slow down just a little bit. “Are you serious?” She’d heard it done plenty of times. It turned up all the time on sound sharing services, and more than once, she’d found herself listening to recordings of other people crying out as they struggled to get through the last few numbers without screaming.
     
    “Yes,” he said. “Very.”
     
    “First of all,” she said, her fingers resting on her thigh so she could use her brain for a minute. “I’m way too riled up to get anywhere close. I probably won’t make it past 75. Second—I don’t know, that’s really my point.”
     
    The chuckle from him was low and edible. “If you think this is difficult,” he said, his voice dark, “Then imagine how hard it’ll be when it’s my tongue on you, not your fingers. Practice is good for you, Zoey.”
     
    “One hundred,” she said, because now her pride was on the line. Her clit was buzzing as her fingers started to move again. She kept her motion slow and sensuous, keeping the buzz growing, but not overwhelming her.
     
    “Oh holy shit,” he said, laughing with a kind of joy and delight that added to the vibration growing in the lowest parts of her belly.
     
    Making it through the nineties was easy. She let her voice get slow and sexy on the numbers, teasing them out. Alex made little noises at her every gasp and sigh, which she knew was calculated to make it harder for her. The eighties, she had to start paying attention to the speed her fingers were moving, deliberately slowing down even more. She was lit up like a live wire, and she knew it wouldn’t take much to tip her straight over the edge. The seventies, the trouble started. Her hips were shifting, moving with the intensity of her need. Her mind kept showing her exactly what Alex would look like between her thighs, offering her sensory feedback of his tongue, hot and soft, pressing into her cunt.
     
    She made it to sixty and then had to take some very deep breaths. “I can’t—I’m too—Alex, I—”
     
    “Hold on, princess,” he said. His voice was husky and thick. Was he counting down in his head, too. “I want to hear you wait. Do it for me, and I’ll spank you until you scream.”
     
    “You spanked me last night,” she whimpered. “I want to come, I want to come all over you.”
     
    He chuckled. “Fair. Shit—” she heard him taking his own moment to keep from breaking under the strain of their little game. “Make it to 25,” he offered. “Make it to at least 25, and I will lick you tonight, lick you and fuck you any way that you want.”
     
    The image almost undid her. She bit her teeth down on her lower lip, hard, the real kind of pain that she didn’t like, and whispered “Fifty-nine.”
     
    He cursed, eloquently, but in a long breathless rush. Her pace was faster now, spitting out numbers as quickly as she could. She was cheating, she knew it, but he was groaning. He sound was muffled, like he’d stuffed something in his own mouth to head off the sound, but she could hear the rapid slap of his hand over the rigid length of his cock.
     
    At twenty-five, the orgasm was slapping against her so hard that she thought she was going to die if she didn’t give in to it, but she spat out “Twenty-four,” just because she could.
     
    “Fucking hell, princess, you’re going to kill