Chapter 4: The Devil's Tongue
Dylan dragged his tongue up from her asshole, that tight little star still glistening, and buried his face between Stacy’s trembling thighs, his lips finding her swollen clit with unerring precision. "Fucking soaked for me, aren't you, Good Girl?" he growled, his voice muffled against her flesh as he sucked hard, making her shriek, his thick fingers plunging deep into her slick pussy, curling upwards to rub that spongy spot inside her. "Oh! Oh god, Dylan!" Stacy cried out, her back arching off the carpet, her fingers scrabbling uselessly, those amazing DDDs heaving with each ragged breath, her wide blue eyes desperate and unfocused. Across the room, Pete’s own groan was torn from him, his fist a blur on his cock, his knuckles white, his other hand gripping the armrest of the velvet chair like he might splinter it, his gaze locked on the obscene wetness glistening around Dylan’s fingers as they pistoned in and out. "Yeah, take it, show him what a greedy good girl you really are," Dylan commanded, pulling back just enough to watch her pussy grip his fingers, his thumb finding her clit again and grinding rough circles, pushing her higher, his eyes flicking to Pete’s reflection, challenging.