Chapter 22 #3
Imogen almost choked on her own breath. He didn’t mean to use his hands? He’d keep them, and her own, above her head the whole time? But—?
Her back arched in a jolt of surprise when his lips found a particularly sensitive spot behind her ear. A moan she’d never made before escaped her lips, inciting more purrs in his throat.
There wasn’t time or space for more questions or worries—he took up her whole vision and focus.
Although he laid above her, he kept the majority of his weight on his elbows.
As his lips trailed from her ear to her neck, his textured tongue lavishing attention there, whenever she almost began to overthink, she squeezed his hands.
Balar would squeeze back, a reassurance she was grateful for. It kept her grounded.
His tongue felt too delicious to ignore, though.
He used his nose to nudge her shirt out of his way as much as possible, managing to lick and suck and kiss his way down the center of her between her breasts.
He nipped at the generous flesh along the sides with his lips and even more softly with his fangs.
The new sensations pummeled Imogen with pleasure, gathering inexorably between her legs.
“One day very soon, I will feast on these,” he rumbled before licking a stripe from sternum to chin.
Imogen gasped, her mind full of such an image. Her hard nipples scraped against the fabric of her shirt, looking almost obscene. Balar made a noise of approval when he found them, and even through her shirt, he closed his mouth around a nipple and sucked.
She nearly came off the bed, sparks of feeling zipping down her spine. Imogen clenched her hands on his, her hips rolling under him.
He didn’t linger there, perhaps sensing just how much that one touch affected her, but he came away with a deliciously devious expression on his face. Imogen shivered to see the promise in his eyes. One day, he would enjoy all of her.
But tonight, he kept to his word. Using just his mouth. With the waistband of her skirts unbuttoned, he could grab some between his teeth to pull away. He used his nose too, nudging the fabric back until he revealed her hips and thighs, clad in only underthings.
A deep purr vibrated in his chest as he leaned down to bury his nose between her legs.
Imogen gasped again, squirming on the bed. She didn’t know how she felt about seeing him between her legs like this, let alone feeling him there. He was large enough that he could do it all while keeping their hands above her head, his broad shoulders wedged between her thighs.
Anticipation had her thighs quivering against him. Fates, he was going to touch her there, lick her there—
His nose touched her cunt, just below her clitoris.
Even through her underthings, she could feel his heat—and the way she immediately soaked the fabric.
He rumbled with pleasure to see it, blowing on the spot of wetness.
Imogen shivered, sensation like she’d never felt overwhelming her—in the best way.
“Here I go, urisá,” he said. “Tell me if it’s too much.”
Imogen tried to agree, but then his mouth was there. Instead, her lips stretched wide in a silent scream as his tongue worked her over the fabric.
Her thighs spasmed and clenched around him, as though to draw him deeper. She felt that purr of his punch through her, another layer of sensation.
He had her nearly writhing beneath him when he used his nose to push the waist of her underthings down. Cool air kissed her soaked cunt before he did, his tongue finding her clitoris unerringly.
Imogen threw her head back onto the pillow, another noise she’d never made before barreling from her lungs. With teasing licks and firm circles, he inundated her with sensation and attention. His single-minded focus awed her; he hardly seemed to blink as he purred and licked and sucked.
That textured tongue played havoc with her balance and her cunt.
After another firm lick, the tip cupping her clitoris in a lingering caress before leaving, he delved lower.
Imogen shook and shivered as he kissed his way down to her entrance.
There, he circled her, drawing her very essence into his mouth.
He hummed in satisfaction, as though he enjoyed the taste.
Somehow, he pushed deeper, his shoulders spreading her legs wider, to the point of a pinching stretch.
His tongue moved faster than she could track, piercing inside her to sweep the sides and then tease her with its texture.
He gorged on her, feasted, and Imogen couldn’t stand it.
Digging her ankle into his shoulder, she choked, “Balar—!”
“That’s it, come for me, nitlam. I want to taste it.”
Body heaving with shakes, Imogen succumbed. Orgasm burst through her, pushing her off its peak. It was sharp, demanding, nothing like she’d ever made herself feel with her own fingers. She came and came, and when she didn’t think she could anymore, he fixed his lips on her clitoris and sucked.
Imogen cried out, crushing his paws in her grip. Her hips rolled to meet his unrelenting tongue, seeking out more even as he gave her everything. She was greedy for it, taking all that he could give her.
Her vision sparked and went hazy around the edges before finally, in a heap, she collapsed back onto the bed.
When she managed to open her eyes again, she looked down to find him still between her legs, his muzzle shining with her slick, and an infernally smug grin on his lips. He licked her still, indolent strokes that just kept her nerves from settling.
“I-I need a moment,” she said.
“Of course. Take all the time you need.”
She licked her dry lips, fascinated when she saw how his predatory gaze watched her. So she did it again.
“What about you?” she asked.
“This is enough for me, urisá. Don’t fret. Although…” He purred as he looked down upon her. “Could I stay with you tonight?”
He didn’t mean overnight on the sofa.
Imogen gulped. “Yes. But the bed is rather small for you.”
“Perfect,” he purred, “we’ll have to cuddle close, then. But first…”
All the warning Imogen got was a squeeze of his hands, and then his hot mouth was on her again.