Chapter 6
SARINA
His lips linger near my neck as his eyes capture mine in the mirror’s reflection. “I have a question,” he whispers.
“Yes?” I practically pant as anticipation courses throughout my body.
“Where are we exactly?”
The mirrors surrounding us burn in my periphery as I think of how I want to answer, but I don’t want to get into any of the specifics right now. There’s no point. It’ll only delay what we both want to happen. So instead, I supply him with a vague response. “A room.”
His tongue clicks, seeming dissatisfied, but his movements don’t reflect that. Not as his lips skim my skin, teasingly.
The mix of proximity and the warm, earthy notes of his cologne casts raised bumps onto my skin as he speaks.
“I gathered that much. Just tell me, are we allowed to be in here?”
I shake my head yes. My ability to speak reduces to a faint hum, “mhm.”
“Good.”
My gaze lowers to the hemline of my dress, watching intently as his fingers curl around the fabric’s edge. I can tell he wants to lift it up and explore underneath but he’s holding back, exercising a level of restraint that is a turn on all in of itself.
“One more question for you.”
This man.
My god.
If this prolonged teasing didn’t feel like foreplay, I’d be halfway out the door already.
“What?” I whine. My impatience getting the better of me.
“Does anyone know we’re in here?”
“No. But I told you, we’re allowed to be in here.”
Expecting him to continue with this song and dance of questions, I brace myself for the next one. Though much to my surprise and to my relief, the questions end with him moving to the door to lock it.
I fall to my knees, and in silence, as he makes his way back to me, he drops to his, kneeling behind me. Eyes centered forward into the mirror, he asks, “How do you want me?”
Flutters invade my stomach. I’ve never been asked that before I’m about to hook up with someone.
It’s usually a cut right to the chase type interaction.
And with the men I’ve been with before it usually starts with me prepping them with head before sex. My wants and needs aren’t even a consideration beyond what will make them come.
“Don’t be shy,” he coaxes me, fingers ghosting over my shoulders, coming dangerously close to breaking contact, yet he doesn’t.
“I can say the same to you. It’s okay. You can touch me,” I breathe the invitation and he takes it with relief visibly softening his shoulders as he brushes both hands onto me.
“What else can I do to you?”
Dirty thoughts infiltrate my mind as I stare through the mirror, admiring how good we look together.
“What?” He hums, between peppering gentle kisses onto my shoulder and down the top of my arm.
“Nothing.”
His tongue clicks. “That look on your face isn’t nothing.”
“Are you fishing for a compliment?”
“No. I just want to know what’s on your mind.”
I sigh. “I think you’re handsome. There.”
“You really think I’m handsome?” His tone shifts, and within seconds his demeanor matches it. Before I know it, he switches position. No longer kneeling and towering behind me, he lies on the floor to my side.
Speechless, I nod.
“Then make use of me, and come sit on it,” he instructs, pointing to his face.
An inferno of desire blazes throughout my entire body as I crawl on top of him. Out of habit I reach for his belt buckle.
Gently, he swats my hand away. “I thought you wanted to be savored.”
“I do, but that doesn’t mean I can’t get a taste of you...”
His hands latch onto my hips pulling me up with ease, aligning the apex of my thighs to his mouth.
“You didn’t let me finish!” I squeal.
“Don’t worry, you will.”
“So then let me.” I gesture my head in the direction of his groin as my hand falls overtop his pants.
His length hardens beneath my touch instantly.
And just as I’ve tightened my grip around his bulge, he throws me off balance, bending his knees just enough that I’m sliding forward even more, falling onto his face.
Palms anchor me in place at the same time he makes contact with my center.
With expert precision he casts my panties to the side with his tongue, enough that he has space to explore where I’m now throbbing with need.
A groan of approval sounds from him, vibrating through my core as I slowly grind my pussy on his face. Working with every swipe of his tongue, my hips sway forward and back, matching his tempo.
Lost in shared whimpers, and becoming increasingly turned on by the sound of being fucked by his tongue, it doesn’t take long for me to come. Not when he’s sucking in my clit piercing with such gentle pressure and precision, just how I like.
Riding the wave of my orgasm, I unintentionally lift my hips up, assuming he needs a breather.
But apparently, that’s not the case.
While his grip remains firm on my hips, his tongue stays in place with a much slower tempo, dragging itself back and forth, as if he’s taking every drop, savoring me as he promised.
Just as the euphoria of release fades, his voice emerges.
“Fuck,” he drawls. “You taste so good. Think you have another in you?”
I nod my head, unable to take my eyes off the view I have of him between my legs, tongue still lapping at my swollen center.
“Good,” he hums, lips pressing a soft kiss at my clit. “I want you to give me as many orgasms as you have in you.”
Words once again escape me. I want nothing more than to come - repeatedly - on him, but as I lower down, and my hands grip onto him, I can feel the tension brewing under his pants from how turned on he is.
I lift up, flipping myself around to straddle him. This time facing his growing bulge.
Distracted as I am from him wasting not even a second by diving back into eating me out from this new angle, I push through unbuckling his belt and lowering his zipper to free his length from his boxers.
Hints of ink capture my eye at the same time a thick barbell protruding from his leaking tip does.
Thigh tattoos and a piercing? Fuck me, I’m in heaven.
My tongue swipes at my lips, wetting them as I lower my mouth.
His size is intimidating but the sensation his piercing causes as I take him deep into my mouth, sucking his veiny, thick shaft mixed with him whimpering gives me all the motivation I need to keep going.
Both our mouths work to extract pleasure from the other but he seems to win the race of who comes first next.
I can tell he wants to, but it seems that he denies himself each time his dick stiffens, begging for release, waiting for me to finish instead.
By the third time this happens, I release him from my mouth. I don’t abandon his dick completely, I remain close enough that my breath teases him. “I’ve come enough, it’s your turn.”
I lift off him, quickly centering myself between his legs. As my lips close around his length, he leans forward, still lying on the floor, and grabs onto my hair, gathering it into a makeshift ponytail.
“There we go, now I can watch how pretty you look when you make me come.”
He makes good on his promise. The entire time my lips are suctioned around him, his gaze remains on me with lustful appreciation so intense, that before I know it my hand is swirling at my clit, and I’m coming again as he finally spills into my mouth.
I swallow and quickly rise to my feet, and he follows, bringing his hand to my face, cupping it in his palm. It takes me a second to process what he’s doing when his thumb swipes down with pressure at my chin.
“Planning on keeping that?” I ask, glancing down at the bead of cum on his fingertip.
“No, I just…”
“Ssh,” I coo, drawing his finger to my mouth.
His bottom lip becomes trapped beneath his teeth at his bites down on it.
His phone buzzes to life with notification after notification.
I not only sense the torment he has, but I can also see it. He wants to answer but his feet remain planted in place. All his attention remains on me as I suck it in with the same attention I did to his dick.
“Fuck,” he whimpers.
“Feel good?” I hum around his finger.
“So good, mama.”
The pulse in my center reemerges. “I’m glad,” I say, realizing that he needed this almost as much as I do.
Maybe even more.