Chapter 12 #2
I walk her backward until her legs hit the bed. She falls back, pulling me with her, and then I’m covering her body with mine, careful to keep my weight on my forearms. She arches up against me, and I nearly lose it right there.
“We should—” She gasps as I kiss down her throat. “We should maybe stop.”
“Do you want to?”
“No. God, no. But my mom—dinner?—”
“We have time.” I pull back to look at her, sprawled on the bed, dress riding up her thighs, lips swollen from kissing. “Let me help you relax. Let me take care of you.”
“I don’t know if?—”
“Trust me.” I kiss her again, slower this time, coaxing rather than demanding. “All that tension, all that anxiety, let me take it away. You’ll walk into that restaurant feeling powerful. Confident. Like you own the fucking world.”
She studies me for a long moment, then nods.
I start at her ankles, pressing kisses to the inside of each one. She giggles, and it’s the best sound I’ve heard all day.
“Ticklish?”
“Perhaps.”
I file that information away for later, then continue my path up her legs. By the time I reach her thighs, she’s not giggling anymore. She’s breathing in short gasps, hands fisted in the comforter, hips lifting slightly off the bed.
“Please,” she whispers.
“Please what?”
“I need… I don’t know what I need.”
“I do.”
I push her dress up slowly, inch by inch, the fabric catching against my knuckles as I remain kneeling on the floor between her legs. She’s watching me, barely. Her breath catches, eyes fluttering shut like she can’t bear the weight of how I’m staring at her.
My gaze drags lower. Then I spot a flash of color, soft lavender lace stretched over warm skin.
Fuck.
Heat rolls through me. I press my palm against her thigh, needing the grounding pressure, needing something to keep me from tearing those panties in half.
“Christ,” I whisper.
Her cheeks go pink, and still she doesn’t open her eyes. I nudge her dress higher, past her hips, bunching it around her waist. It’s not just the sight of her; it’s the way she responds, soft and silent, trusting me with her whole body.
“Look at you,” I breathe, voice thick.
She barely opens her eyes, like she doesn’t realize she’s undoing me one heartbeat at a time.
“No,” I murmur. “Don’t hide from me. Open your eyes fully. I want you to watch what I’m going to do to you.”
I lean in closer to her inner thigh and kiss it, slow and reverent. “You’re fucking perfect.”
Then I breathe her in.
My dick throbs, painfully caged behind my zipper. She smells like heaven and sin mixed together, sweet, musky, absolutely fucking addictive. The kind of scent that sears itself into memory and makes a man lose his goddamn mind.
I slide my hands beneath the waistband of her panties, the lace clinging for a second like it doesn’t want to let go. She lifts her hips in silent permission, and I drag the lacy material down her thighs, my knuckles grazing over soft skin, over heat, over places I ache to taste.
I take my time. Watching.
Her thighs tremble just slightly as I slide the panties past her knees, down her calves, and finally off her ankles. I toss them aside without looking, my eyes locked on the spot she tried to hide from me. The small strip of blonde hair. The blushing pink lips.
She’s already glistening.
Wet. Swollen. Her folds delicate and flushed, so fucking pretty that I can’t move for a second. I just admire everything she’s offering me.
I press my hands to her inner thighs and part her legs.
And there it is.
The most intimate, vulnerable pussy laid bare for me.
Pink and wet and aching. My name is written all over her.
My throat goes dry.
I look up and find her watching now, lips parted, breath stuttering out of her.
“Fuck,” I whisper, voice wrecked. “You’re dripping for me.”
I bend forward, breath ghosting over her slit, and smile as she shivers beneath it.
“You’re going to let me break you, aren’t you, baby?”
I lean in closer, unable to resist. The first taste ruins me.
Warm, wet, addictive like nothing and no one else.
I groan into her, dragging my hands up the insides of her thighs, spreading her wider as I settle between them.
She’s flat on her back, breathing hard, eyes wide as if she can’t believe this is happening.
She tries to close her legs, just slightly, not enough to stop me, but enough to make me lift my head.
“I’ve never… No one’s ever done this to me before.”
Her cheeks flush, hands fisted in the sheets. Shy. Vulnerable. So goddamn beautiful I can hardly take it.
I press my mouth to the inside of her thigh.
“Then I’m going to make it unforgettable,” I murmur against her skin, fucking excited to think I’ll be the first man to ever eat her sweet pussy. “You’ll never doubt how good it can feel again.”
I kiss higher, feel her tense beneath me, then let my breath spill hot over her hole where she’s wet and aching. My thumbs glide along the softest parts of her inner lips, coaxing them open for me with my touch. Her body gives way slowly, trembling, glistening, flushed and exposed.
She gasps when my tongue drags the length of her, the sound torn from her as if she wasn’t expecting it.
I work her slowly, savoring every twitch of her thighs, every shaky breath.
My fingers follow, sliding through the slick heat, and I ease two inside her, inch by inch.
Tight. Hot. She takes me so sweetly it nearly breaks me.
She’s quiet, but her body says everything. The way her hips shift just barely toward my mouth. The way her hands twist in the sheets like she’s holding herself together. And she keeps staring, holding my gaze as I flick her pink pussy.
I curl my fingers deeper, pressing into her tight heat until I feel her squeeze around me.
My tongue doesn’t let up. Instead, I drag it over her clit again, then flick harder, faster, more ravenous.
I want her overwhelmed. I want her gasping for air and crying out my name with that sweet, broken voice.
Her thighs tremble around my head, hips jerking, trying to ride the rhythm I’ve set. She’s so wet, dripping down to my knuckles, coating my mouth like she was made for this. Made for me.
I growl low into her, the sound vibrating through my tongue, and her whole body jolts like I hit a live wire.
“That’s it,” I mutter against her. “Just like that. So fucking responsive. You gonna come for me, little Omega?”
Her back arches. My fingers curl again, rougher this time, stroking deep with every thrust. She clenches so tightly it knocks the breath out of me.
I’m rock hard and leaking, cock straining for any kind of contact, but I can’t stop. Not when she’s falling apart like this.
I unfasten my fly one-handed, pull myself free, and hiss through my teeth at the relief. My hand wraps around my cock, slow strokes matching the rhythm of my tongue.
“You feel what you’re doing to me?” I rasp against her clit. “I’m fucking leaking for you, baby. Making a mess all over myself, and I haven’t even been inside you yet.”
She whimpers, thighs trembling, breath coming fast and shallow. My jaw aches from the way I’m devouring her, but I don’t stop.
“You don’t even know,” I groan, “how perfect you taste. How good you squeeze around my fingers. You were made to be wrecked like this.”
I fuck her with my hand, slick and deep and filthy, dragging my tongue over her in quick, relentless licks until she’s writhing. Her hips roll, chasing every stroke like she’s desperate for more, but it’s mine to give. I’m the one unraveling her. I’m the one who gets to watch her come undone.
I groan against her, grinding into my fist harder now. It’s not enough, never enough, but it keeps the edge off. Just barely.
Her body starts to tighten, muscles clenching, her hands fisting the sheets. She’s so close. So goddamn close.
“Let go,” I growl into her, voice rough and low. “Give it to me. Come on my fingers. Come all over my fucking tongue.”
Her whole body shudders as she comes, jaw clenched, a scream on her lips, eyes squeezed shut. She pulses around my fingers, soft and frantic, flooding my mouth with a sweetness I never want to forget.
I don’t stop until her legs start to shake, until her hips twitch like it’s too much. Only then do I ease up, slowing my fingers, gentling my tongue. I press kisses into the trembling skin of her thighs like I’m grateful. Like I’m worshipping her. Because I fucking am.
I lift my head, breathless, and look at her. She’s staring at the ceiling, eyes glassy, lips parted, chest rising and falling like she’s just survived something holy.
And I lose it.
I reach blindly for the scrap of lace I tossed aside earlier.
Her panties. Still damp with her heat, still carrying her scent.
I grip them in one hand, brace the other against the bed, and stroke myself hard and fast. It only takes seconds.
I’ve been teetering on the edge since the first sound she made.
Her name breaks from my lips as I come, hips jerking, cock throbbing in my fist. I spill into the delicate fabric, breathing her name like a prayer, like a curse.
I wipe the head against the soft lace, her scent and mine tangled together. I close my fist around it and breathe in deep, dizzy with it.
When I look back up, she’s still watching me.
I smile, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.
Her taste still clings to my lips. Her scent is thick in my lungs.
And I know without a doubt that she’s mine now.
“How do you feel?” I ask softly.
She doesn’t answer right away, just breathes, lips parted. “That was incredible,” she whispers. “I could definitely do that more often.”
I chuckle, loving seeing her this way.
After tucking my cock back into my pants and zipping up, I get to my feet and help her sit up, smoothing her dress back down. She looks at me, eyes still glazed, and reaches for my belt.
“Let me?—”
I catch her hands. “This was for you.”