Chapter 16 #2
The belligerent lust of his first licks makes my breath catch, light, teasing flicks dancing around where I need him most. My hips rise from the mattress, seeking more, but he pulls back slightly, his eyes meeting mine.
The wet heat of his breath makes me shiver seconds before his teeth graze my inner thigh.
I arch my back, one hand still clutching my shirt, the other pressing against my breast.
“You're such a tease,” I whisper, my voice breaking on the last word. He shifts position, palms pressing my legs apart until the stretch burns slightly. I watch his hungry eyes as he lowers his head again, his lips parting.
His tastebuds drag between my folds and across my clit.
He’s deliberate, unhurried, and the wet heat of it sends electricity up my spine.
My back arches off the bed, fingers twisting in the sheets.
He pauses, his breath warm against my most sensitive skin, eyes finding mine over the length of my body.
“Still with me?” The corner of his mouth lifts slightly.
Before I can answer, he dips his head again, the flat of his tongue pressing firmly against my clit.
My vision blurs at the edges. My hand flies to his hair, gripping the soft strands between my fingers as a sound escapes me which I barely recognize as my own.
Again and again, he returns to the same spot, each stroke more insistent and resolved than the last, until I'm trembling.
When he shifts lower, the sudden change draws a curse from my lips. My hips rise to meet him of their own accord. Through half-closed eyes, I watch him lose himself in the taste of me, his shoulders tensed with concentration, hands gripping my legs like he's afraid I might disappear.
With each deliberate sweep of his tongue against my opening, he inches it further inside, eager to provoke and tantalize me from within.
His hands glide up the soft skin of my thighs, and three fingers on each of his hands gently part my lips, leaving me completely exposed to his touch.
He traces a path with his tongue, beginning just inside my wet entrance and slowly dragging it up to my clit.
There, he begins to swirl the tip in slow, calculated circles.
With every few rotations, he applies firm pressure against my swelling pearl, sending waves of sensation coursing through me.
Time stretches like molasses in winter as he teases me, his breath hot against my skin. My fingers twist in the sheets, knuckles white. Just when my vision starts to blur at the edges, his mouth finds that perfect spot. The first gentle suction sends lightning up my spine.
“Jesus, fuck, what are you doing to me?” The words tear from my throat as my thighs begin to tremble.
His eyes flick up to meet mine, dark and famished, before he seals his lips tighter, the hollow of his cheeks deepening.
I feel the pull of his breath, the wet heat of his mouth creating a perfect seal.
My back arches off the mattress as my palms slam down, fingers splayed against cool cotton.
The sound which escapes me is primal, unfamiliar to my own ears.
He slides back, his tongue resuming its relentless dance, releasing my dripping lips as he does.
His right hand descends slowly, and his middle finger gently enters me.
He keeps it there, unmoving, for exactly fifteen seconds, I count each one, Mississippi-style, to keep from screaming.
His mouth is hot and wet on my clit, sucking and slurping while his finger begins to move, slowly, in and out, a steady rhythm matching his driven mouth.
He repeats this pattern, once, twice, and then a third time.
Each time he withdraws his finger, he curls the tip like a beckoning hook, dragging it along the interior front wall of my pussy, all while his mouth remains locked on me.
My hips arch and fall and arch and fall, waves crashing against the shore, my hands now fisting in my hair, pulling harder each time his finger curls inside me.
A moment later, he slides a second finger in, both moving together, curling, stroking, driving me mad.
He takes a breath, pulling his head back just enough to look at me, and his left hand takes over, three fingers rubbing side to side across my clit.
My body jerks in response, hips writhing, thighs trembling and spasming, out of my control.
“Oh fuck,” I cry out, the words torn from my throat.
Feeling the tension build within me, he stands up with determination, his hands sliding under my waist with a firm grip.
With a deliberate motion, he lifts my hips, causing my generous curves to hover slightly off the bed.
His right arm exerts more force, and with a smooth twist of his left, he flips me over onto my stomach.
“Get on your knees,” he commands in a low, steady voice.
My body still quivers as I comply, shifting onto my knees on the soft mattress before him.
He grabs the hem of my t-shirt, forcefully pushing it up my back, revealing the full expanse of my backside, tired of the fabric's obstruction.
I tug the collar over my head and toss the shirt to the floor, freeing myself completely.
His right hand pulls back and lands with a sharp crack against my right cheek.
He watches intently as my ample flesh ripples from the impact.
He repeats the action, observing the pink hue spreading across my skin, and again until he gently massages the area, soothing the sting with his touch.
A soft “mmm” escapes me as I bite down on my lower lip.
His answering groan vibrates against my skin as he drops to his knees behind me.
Strong hands grip my inner thighs again, pushing them wider until it burns sweetly.
My body sinks lower as his palms slide up to cup my ass, fingers digging into soft flesh.
The first wet stroke of his tongue makes my breath catch, a deliberate path from entrance to apex which leaves me trembling.
His tongue flattens, hot and insistent, on the return journey.
Two fingers press inside, the sudden fullness making my back arch.
With each slow withdrawal, those fingers curl downward, searching, finding the spot which makes my vision blur.
Each stroke comes faster than the last, pressure building like a gathering storm.
“Fuck, baby.” The words tear from my throat, dissolving into a gasp as his mouth returns to me.
His tongue delves deeper, the wet heat of it making my legs quiver against his shoulders.
My hips buck involuntarily when his fingers find my clit, circling with deliberate pressure.
The sharp crack of his palm against my flesh echoes in the dim room.
My skin blooms hot beneath his hand, the sting spreading like wildfire.
“Harder,” I manage between ragged breaths.
The second impact lands with enough force to jolt me forward on the mattress.
A sound escapes me, half pain, half pleasure.
His fingers tangle in my hair, twisting until my scalp tingles.
My head pulls back, throat exposed, spine arching as he fills me again.
Each thrust of his fingers sends shockwaves through me, the obscene wetness between us amplifying every movement.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Yes. Yes. Oh God, yes!” I cry out.
He releases my hair, dropping to his knees behind me, fingers still buried deep.
His breath ghosts across my skin as he positions himself, eyes level with where his hand disappears inside me.
Each thrust sends tremors up my spine, deliberate, measured, relentless.
When his tongue finds me again, my elbows buckle.
My inner thighs are slick with sweat mingled with the wetness which drips onto the sheets and into his beard.
My sight is all but gone as he works me harder, the pressure building like a gathering storm.
His movements become mechanical, precise, the steady rhythm of his fingers curling forward with each withdrawal, the flat of his tongue pressing firmer with each pass.
My legs begin to shake uncontrollably. The tension coils tighter and tighter, until my body goes rigid.
His pace never falters, even as my back arches impossibly further.
Even as my voice breaks in a tenor I can’t comprehend.
The wave crashes through me, leaving me trembling, collapsing, undone.
At that moment, he finally withdraws his fingers with a slick sound which makes me shudder one last time.
My knees give way beneath me, my chest hitting the mattress first, then my cheek against the damp sheets.
I roll to my back, my lungs heaving as I gulp for air, eyes fluttering closed.
A smile curves my lips as aftershocks ripple through my belly, each one gentler than the last.