Queenie #2
He followed easily, hesitating before their lips touched. “We don’t have to kiss.”
“Does that mean you don’t want to?”
A low growl clawed up from deep in Boyd’s chest. “Queenie… ” he warned.
She silenced him with her mouth, enjoying the rough scratch of his beard against her cheeks. She’d never kissed a bearded man. His hands ran down her sides and she couldn’t help but squirm and giggle into the kiss.
“Ticklish?” With a playful smirk, Boyd trailed a feather-light touch over her spine.
“Just a little,” she panted, heat flooding her cheeks.
Boyd swept her into another kiss, smiling against her lips.
Her hand grazed over the buzzed part of his hair, climbing higher until she found the longer locks to latch onto.
Her heart was racing, thumping wildly in her chest as his hands travelled further south.
They hooked under her ass, and she happily wrapped her legs around his waist when her feet left the ground.
Her arm around his neck, she melted into him.
“Breathe, sweet Queenie.”
No wonder she felt dizzy.
Boyd turned and sat her on the counter, his fingertips teasing her outer thigh and under her dress. “What’s our safeword?” he asked, resting his forehead against hers.
“Can I say it without you stopping?”
“Yes, only this once.”
“Blueberry. We stop, no questions asked.”
“You listen so well.” With another kiss, Boyd rewarded her with his hands beneath her dress, tickling up her inner thigh.
Self-consciousness tried to grow like a weed, but the slip of his tongue against hers and his scent washing over her banished the thought instantly.
“You’re tensing,” he husked, breaking the kiss.
“You noticed.” She massaged the back of his neck, loving how his short stubble felt under her fingertips. “I’m just a little self-conscious.”
“What about?” Boyd rested his hands on her thighs, brushing over the skin there. More specifically, the stretch marks. But he seemed genuine in asking.
“I’m not really sure. I know deep down there’s nothing wrong.”
“Tell me one thing about yourself that bothers you.”
“My stretch marks.”
Boyd dropped his gaze, shoving her skirt up to reveal her legs.
He found a particularly deep stretch mark, tracing his thumb over the skin.
“I think they are mesmerising. I could spend all day memorising each one with my tongue.” To prove his point he bent over her lap and kissed her thigh, tongue darting out to lick across the skin. “Delicious,” he hummed.
“Boyd,” she panted, voice quivering as his tongue teased higher.
“I love how you say my name. Wrecked already and I haven’t even started to worship you.”
“You haven’t?”
He chuckled, lips vibrating against her skin. “No, Queenie.”
She braced herself with her elbows on the counter behind her and let her head roll back. The butterflies in her stomach danced across her veins. Her toes tingled as he moved higher, his fingers brushing against the thin lace covering her.
“Oh, sweet Queenie,” he hummed and pushed the dress aside so he could see her wine-red panties. “May I steal them from you?”
“You can borrow them.”
Boyd tugged at the fabric, flashing a smirk between her thighs. “I’ll be sure to return them.”
She barely needed to move for him to slip the lace down her thighs.
With a sly grin, he stuffed them into his back pocket.
Boyd returned his attention to her thighs, sucking a kiss high up while his fingers threaded through the dense curls covering her pussy.
Chest heaving with heavy breaths, she rolled her hips and spread her legs wider.
“Good, just like that,” he hummed. “Give yourself to me.”
His tongue moved tantalisingly slow, climbing higher and higher until Boyd finally licked over her pussy.
Queenie couldn’t help but moan. He did it again, his fingers pressing against her entrance.
She wanted to apologise for being so dry, wanted to assure him that she was enjoying his touch—but she didn’t get a chance to.
Boyd slicked the path with his tongue, pushing through her folds and dipping into her.
He swirled and coated her with his saliva, only once he deemed her ready, his finger replaced his mouth, and his tongue flicked over her clit.
She jolted, her thighs clenching around his head before she forced herself to relax. “Sorry.”
“If that’s how I go, then I’ll die a happy man.”
She quivered again. Though those words did things to Queenie she couldn’t explain, she didn’t actually want to hurt him. She moved to wrap her left arm around him, but stopped herself. Deeply rooted insecurity surfaced, making her afraid that she would freak him out if she touched him.
“So tense again,” he hummed and peered up.
“I’m sorry.”
“What is it?”
His fingers were still inside her, curling and stretching her while his thumb found her clit, slowly circling the sensitive bundle of nerves. He looked up at her, soft and gentle. She worried her lower lip, unsure of how to voice her thoughts.
“It’s okay, Queenie.” She loved how he pulled her name into a soft melody. “We’re still getting to know one another. Communication is part of that.”
Her gaze drifted to the window, tears burning the corners of her eyes. Why was it still so hard for her to talk about it when being intimate with a man?
“Shh,” he hushed and stood to his full height. His fingers still embedded into her pussy, his free hand reached for her chin, gently turning her attention back to him. “It’s okay.”
“I wasn’t sure…” She averted her gaze as she pressed out her last words in a shaky whisper. “I wasn’t sure if you would want me to touch you with my left arm.”
Boyd ducked down, sucking a kiss to her shoulder. “I’m here with you. For you.” His lips danced along her shoulder and down her left arm. “All of you.” He took her left arm in his hand, thumb softly brushing her skin. “I chose you. I wanted you, for all that you are.”
He then kissed her from her elbow to where her arm ended and back up her forearm.
Goosebumps pebbled her skin. With his lips on her arm and his fingers playing with her pussy, a warmth washed over her.
He laid her arm around his neck, then dove back down between her thighs, tongue drawn to her clit like a magnet.
She let out a long breath of relief that turned into a moan as he flicked his tongue hard and quick over her clit.
His free hand slid around her hips, over her ass and up her spine, yanking on the zipper of her dress. She took the hint and tossed it aside only leaving herself in nothing but her bra. Boyd rose long enough to unclasp it with skilled fingers.
“Perfect.” He sealed over her nipple, quickly wetting the skin before pulling off with a pop . “I think we should take this to somewhere more comfortable.”
Then she was in his arms again. She crashed her mouth back onto his, her fingers twisting into his hair. This man was driving her crazy, like no other had before. He took control when she wanted, all the while giving her the comfort she needed .
In his bedroom, Boyd carefully laid her across the bed and mouthed along her jaw. One arm held his weight, while the other slipped back between her thighs. His fingers on her clit made her gasp and her legs twitch again.
“I had a vasectomy years ago, but I also have condoms if you feel more comfortable with them.”
“I don’t like condoms and I’m on the pill.”
“You are full of wonderful surprises, sweet Queenie.” She pushed her hand between them, working open the buttons on his shirt. “You’re doing so well.”
Her cheeks heated. It took her far too long but once all buttons were undone, she pushed the fabric off his shoulders.
Sitting up, Boyd tossed it aside and gave her the full view of his torso.
As suspected his shoulders and chest were muscular, covered in thick curls all the way down to his plush stomach.
She pushed herself onto her elbow and reached for his chest to run her palm up his sternum to the silver necklace.
“You’re gorgeous.”
He mirrored her, his damp fingers tingling up her sternum. “Thank you.”
Her fingers flirted down his chest, landing on the clasp of his jeans.
His belt fell open with a satisfying click, and she slowly opened the zipper where his erection practically jumped into her hand.
The only thing holding him back were his tight black boxer briefs.
She palmed over his hard length before impatiently tugging the constricting fabric away.
With her lip between her teeth, she let her finger run over his length, wrapping her fist around his shaft.
The thick girth filled her hand, his leaking tip twitching beneath her thumb.
Boyd groaned and she looked up, finding his head dropping.
His fingers returned to her clit and gently circled her as she gave his cock slow, deliberate strokes.
She watched herself as she pleased him, a drop of precum dripping from his tip.
She had to admit, it was rather satisfying to hear him groan because of her. She’d never had a partner be so vocal.
Then Boyd shifted to lie between her legs and Queenie found herself… disappointed. “No,” she pleaded, tugging him upward.
“And why not? I thought you enjoyed my tongue fucking you.”
She had, but how was she supposed to tell him that it was for nothing? “You don’t have to do it.”
Boyd kissed her hip bone, diving into her with his fingers once more. “Do you think I’m not enjoying myself?”
She hesitated, but then Boyd found that sweet spot and she decided that honesty was best. “I won’t come. Men get frustrated because of it.”
“You’ve never come with a man?”
She flushed, lust washed away by embarrassment.
Boyd found a steady rhythm with his fingers. “How do you make yourself come, sweet Queenie? Do you have toys you like to fuck yourself with?”
She nodded, unable to hold his gaze.