Chapter 15 #2
Fern sucked in a breath, the scent of her desire flooding the air while his erection shamelessly prodded her ass. Her eyes glazed over, and she wriggled back.
“I lied,” she breathed.
Chuckling, he let her hair go and slid his hand down to where his other was already splayed across her lower stomach, savoring the heat of her velvet-soft skin.
“Mm.” She sounded annoyed.
“What?”
Fern spun to face him, but stayed close, wedging her thigh between his legs. “Take control again.”
It wasn’t quite a question, but her voice wavered, and he recognized her hesitance, being so familiar with it himself.
It was the hair. She was pissed he let go of her hair. It was probably why she’d braided it, too.
Elliott’s suspicions were all but confirmed when he grabbed her braids firmly and gave them a tug. Her hard nipples brushed his chest, and she rolled her hips, her center warm and wet against his thigh.
With his lips grazing hers, he demanded, “Get on the bed, Fern. I want you on your back. Legs spread.”
Cheeks flushed red like strawberries, she nodded slowly and climbed into position, laying her head on his pillows.
His comforter was simple, a dark blue organic pattern set against a paler shade, but Elliott had never noticed the hints of pink in the weave before.
Her hair brought out the color, adding new depth to the old design.
“You okay?” Fern asked, pulling her knees together slowly.
“Yeah, sorry. Thinking.” Climbing up near her feet, as one did to worship a goddess, he trailed his fingertips up to her knees, urging her to open again so he could see—and get to—her.
“About?”
“How much I need to taste you.” A glance at her face confirmed she was on board with his plan: That glazed look was back in her eyes, and her lips, already soft and swollen, were set in a dreamy smirk.
Elliott’s wandering fingers and feather-light touches shifted to something needier as he squeezed her soft flesh and dragged his nails up her inner thighs, watching her pulse in anticipation of his touch.
Sweeping his fingertips over her pussy earned him a soft whimper and lifted hips. Then, he ran two fingers down her center, parting her outer lips and holding her open so he could watch her eager little movements. When she whined, he squeezed her clit, rubbing hard and eliciting a gasp from her.
“Are you going to come for me, Fern?” He teased her again, discovering his lighter touches led her to lift her hips, while pinching her, kneading her, and applying firm pressure got him those deeper moans.
“Yep.”
Chuckling, he kissed his way up her leg from knee to thigh to where his fingers worked her center.
She smelled fucking amazing, and his cock ached, squeezed between his body and the bed.
His erection wasn’t his main focus at the moment, so to reduce that distraction, he hooked his hands around the tops of her thighs and went up on his knees, bringing Fern with him.
She shrieked when her ass went above her head, but her sounds of outrage shifted to pleasure when his mouth found her center.
She was so wet for him, so delicious, honeyed and ready to be devoured.
With his chin burrowed into her ass and his tongue alternating between rolling over her clit and sucking on her like he couldn’t get enough, she was a perfect picture of ecstasy.
Fern’s braids writhed like snakes on the pillow with her movements as she blinked up at him, their gazes locked.
“Come for me, Fern,” he said against her wet center.
“Can’t— Breathe—” she gasped, and he realized he did have her pretty scrunched up.
Taking one for the team, Elliott smashed his cock back into the mattress and lowered her ass. “Better?”
“Mhm.”
“Good. Now, come all over my face.”
She laughed at his command, briefly, before her breath hitched and she shattered. Gasping out his name, she clenched his head between her smooth thighs, and he launched her to the stars.
When she stopped writhing against him and he could suck in a breath, Elliott said, “That’s a good girl,” before kissing her center again.
“Oh my fuck...” With her lids closed, brows raised, and a smile pulling at her open lips, Fern exhaled a sweet sigh. Then her blue eyes flew open, and she pressed a flat foot to the center of his chest, urging him up to his knees.
He grabbed her ankle and slid his rough palms up her smooth leg, en route to her rosy, wet center.
“Elllliottt,” she dragged out his name, scolding, as she plucked his fingers from her skin. “No. It’s your turn.”
“I thought I was in charge?” He pouted.
“You were in control. I’m always in charge.” She winked dangerously and sat up, sliding her foot down his chest, over his raging erection.
It sprang back into position while she slipped her legs around behind his and scooted forward. Her warm feet crossed over his calves as she sat cross-legged, and he knelt before her. Right before her. He was effectively trapped with his balls at her chin and his cock thwacking her forehead.
Fern grabbed his ass and gripped his shaft, and Elliott groaned, content with her kneading fingers and exploratory touches. But when her tongue met the underside of his length, a wave of bliss crashed through him and he whimpered.
“My god, Fern. Fuck.”
She licked around his crown while scraping her nails down the fronts of his thighs. He shuddered, his bear purring within him, glad Elliott was finally doing the right thing.
Fern took him between her lips, sucking and rolling her tongue over his head. With one hand, she stroked in time with her mouth; with the other, she explored his body, never halting her aimless journey as her touch proclaimed each landmark a new erogenous zone.
“Like heaven,” he murmured when she teased his tightening balls. “I’m going to come.”
She nodded, keeping him in her mouth, her intentions clear.
“You don’t have to—” he began, but it was too late. With a shaky moan, his pleasure peaked, and he coated her pink tongue.
She swallowed while he was still in her mouth, and Elliott groaned again before collapsing onto his side, trapping her leg beneath him.
Laughing melodically, she freed her foot and melted into a puddle, the top of her head pressing in under his chin.
They lay like that for a few minutes, damp and panting, until he found the energy to clean them up and get her something to toss on.
He didn’t give Fern the option of wearing her own clothes; a pair of his black boxer briefs and a red T-shirt would do.
He’d make her give them back before leaving, and he wouldn’t wash them until he had to.
“Hey, you still awake?” he whispered, some time later.
“Yeah.” She scratched her fingers through his chest hair and snuggled against his side.
“I have to run out to the studio to clean up before bed.”
“Oh my gosh!” She sat, planting her palm on his pec for leverage. “You should’ve said something earlier. We could have done it—”
“When? I wasn’t going to interrupt us to clean equipment.”
Grinning, she said, “Come on then, let’s go.”
“You stay here, I don’t mind taking care of it.”
“No. I’m helping.”
She did help, then he helped her—sexually speaking—by sitting her on the edge of the work table, taking a seat, and enjoying a bedtime snack.
Sometime much later, back in bed and cuddled together, he whispered (again), “Hey, you still awake?”
“Mhm.” She found his hand on his stomach and entwined her fingers with his, curling herself against his side.
“I’m sorry I said you talk too much, way back when. I didn’t mean it. It was a bad joke.”
Tilting her head up, she kissed his jaw before saying, “I know.”
“You knew?”
“Of course,” she replied through a yawn. “There’s some truth in every joke.”
“I think the phrase is ‘in every lie.’”
“Eh, you know what I mean. I’m chatty. I know that.”
Rubbing slow circles over her back, he pressed his lips to the crown of her head. “I think you’re charming. I wouldn’t have you any other way.”