Birdie

19. The Black Thong

                  

His lips left a lazy trail of fire from her own down to her neck. When they met the flesh where shoulder and neck joined, Carmen's shoulders started to shake. Chance's teeth were sharp, but when he bit down on the sensitive skin, pain wasn't what had her yelping and trying to jump away.

"You know that's my tickle spot! You know it!" Carmen accused as she squirmed beneath him, slapping the top of his head repeatedly as she cackled beneath him, "Let me go!"

Chance let out a grunt, but failed to unlatch from her, "Quit hittin' me, you're too heavy handed,"

"B-B-B-"

"B-B-B-But hush," Chance mocked her as he sucked on the soft skin, his mouth hot and unforgiving as Carmen squealed like a pig, "Let me taste you, babe. Be still."

"I...I can't!" Carmen gasped through her giggles, as she slowly got used to the sensation, but just because she was no longer laughing didn't mean she was calm. Lust knotted and rolled in the pit of her stomach like it was a being in itself. The only way that hot feeling could be described was by saying that Carmen felt like she was whizzing through a rollercoaster at high speed while her body was on fire.

And that still wasn't good enough.

Carmen always forgot what it felt like to really kiss this man, and she didn't really blame anyone. She could count on one hand how many times they had kissed that was something more than his sweet pecks of welcoming and greeting. For Carmen, Chance and what she felt for him were both proof that things didn't need to be physical to blossom. At least not with her. Yes she wanted the sex, and she wanted it bad, and she did think about sex with him a lot, but even so, for Carmen to be as depraved as she was, it still wasn't a leading factor.

Even so, her hand fisted his hair, fingers curling as she twisted the strands with her grasp, her breath coming out in a whoosh while the shaking from mirth turned to tremors of need. Her stomach dipped and her womanhood weeped for him. On that couch Chance continued to devour her skin like it would be his last meal.

Through the haze of lust, Carmen managed to remember that they weren't at home, and the way he was doing her was not appropriate in this place, "Chance, stop. We can't do this here."

He should have pulled away from her when she said that, but he didn't.

Instead, he let his heavy body relax on top of hers, and just a little over two hundred and ten pounds had never felt so good on top of her. Obsidian eyes picked through Carmen's soul as Chance's large hands rested on each side of her, his forehead pressed against her own, "You've made me wait this long, and now I can't even worship you like I want to."

"The blame game doesn't work and isn't cut when you're a grown man, Rob, you know that," Carmen responded, using the shortening of his first name to show him that she wasn't upset, "I threw myself at you before we'd even gotten to your place that first day, I didn't make you wait for anything. Don't put that on me."

She was just glad that little chase was over.

Chance had made her feel desperate for him, and she still did feel like that, but it wasn't in the exact same way. Carmen didn't like the way that felt. It left a sour taste in her mouth having to chase a man when her life, it had been beaten into her brain by her father, Ira, and Weebie that if a woman had to chase a man, then she was chasing something she didn't need to have.

She needed to have Chance, but being grouped with the women who chased dicks that didn't want to be inside of them was a shot hard enough to knock down her ego a few pegs.