Chapter 11 #3
He quickens his pace, moving his tongue between seductively circling my clit and dipping into me. From here, I can see everything. Watching him control and devour me pushes me towards a climax. My shoulders roll against the tiles, I yank harder at his hair.
‘Gregory, I’m there.’
He doesn’t stop; he works relentlessly until my head spins, my insides ignite around him and I scream his name.
Leaning my head back, I slide my legs from his shoulders and he lowers me down, steadying me with his hands on my hips. I drop my head to his chest as he rinses his face under the spray of the shower.
With a bent index finger, he lifts my chin. ‘Fuck me with your mouth.’
Gladly.
Keeping my eyes on his, I bend to my knees, my hands gliding over his wet muscles, coming to rest on to his hips.
A drop of pre-come escapes his tip and I lap it up, savouring his taste.
Sliding my arm between his legs, I move my fingers around his back entrance, then drag them forward along his hard base, his moan spurring me on.
I cup his sack, still stroking his base, and delight in his head falling back, showing strained muscles in his neck and chest.
I lick from his base to his tip then turn my tongue around the head, taking another bead of early release. He braces his hands on the tiles in front of him, watching as I wrap my lips around him and take him to the back of my throat in one swift move.
‘Christ, Scarlett, what you do to my cock. That mouth.’
He moves one hand to my hair and holds my head still as he moves himself slowly in and out of me, bringing water to my eyes.
His thighs tense, his arse cheeks stiffen under my hands, and his rhythm stutters.
I tighten my grip, pumping quicker, turning my tongue around his tip and teasing his arse with my free hand.
‘Jesus! Fuck! That’s so good, baby.’
He comes so much, anyone would think it’s been longer than twenty-four hours since his last release. I swallow every drop he has to offer.
We wrap in towel dressing gowns and I follow his orders, moving to the four-post bed, whilst he retrieves the Pol Rodger from the lounge.
Those black eyes are still unsated. Lucky for me.
I hold out my hand but he puts the ice bucket and two glasses of champagne on the bedside unit. Then tugs my legs so I’m lying flat on the bed and yanks the tie from my gown, freeing my arms as he pushes off the robe, exposing me to him.
‘Arms above your head,’ he demands.
Everything south of my waist throbs in response, excited, expectant.
He wraps the wool tie twice around my wrists, then around the horizontal frame of the bed.
‘I like it when you play kinky,’ I tell him.
A fleeting smile curls on one side of his lips.
He moves backwards off the bed, my head lifting from the mattress to watch as his robe drops to the floor.
I throw my head back on a desperate laugh as he takes his own robe belt and moves to the side of the bed.
I watch his effervescent champagne fill his mouth and slide down his throat, enjoying the strong rise and fall of his Adam’s apple as he swallows.
Gregory and champagne. A truly delectable combination.
His knees part my legs roughly then he leans forward and lifts my head so he can tie his wool belt across my eyes.
His weight leaves the bed and I hear him moving around the room, opening and closing a drawer, then The Daysleepers’ ‘The Secret Place’ drowns out all other noise.
My sight and sound senses are completely gone, my ability to touch constrained. I worm restlessly in the bed.
Taking me by surprise, the bite of ice moves along my bottom lip and his weight moves over me, not touching my skin.
The ice moves down my sternum, my abdomen, down to the top of my sex.
My hips rise and the ice travels back up my body.
It’s gone. Then back, circling the end of my breast in time to the slow, heady sound filling my ears.
My lips part; my mouth dries. The ice travels my skin, goosebumps prickling over my limbs, and circles my other breast, the cold stinging the tip.
My breathing becomes heavy. I try to find him with my legs and fail. Where are you?
The ice is gone and his weight moves off the mattress. I open my eyes beneath the belt and find only blackness. The track clicks over to Radiohead’s ‘Everything in its Right Place.’ I tug my arms; they’re still restrained. The not knowing, the suspense, has me writhing and aching to have him.
His weight is back, resting either side of my head. Champagne bubbles trickle into my mouth and I swallow, yearning for more. Wet, warmed brut is released in a line down my chest, my abdomen, my navel.
My hips jerk as effervescence caresses my clit and falls between my labia. His hands finally touch me, forcing my legs apart before his mouth sucks and his tongue laps up champagne from my pulsing centre.
He drinks alcohol from my belly button and licks a line up my chest. His hands grab my breasts and he grinds his hard cock against me.
This. This is what I’ve signed up to for the rest of my life.
He lifts my hips and crashes into me on a bark that I hear over the music.
He takes me hard, just as he promised, and holds me up on that angle as he hammers into me.
His thumb rubs my clit, circling with the music.
The assault on my senses and the force of him reaching the end of me send a rippling orgasm through my body.
My hands fist around the wool belt as my mind fogs with images of his naked body kneeling between my legs.
He doesn’t let me come down; he flips me onto my front and pulls up my hips so I’m on my knees, hands down on the mattress, arse exposed.
‘I said every part of you.’ His words are drenched in desire and I want nothing more than to sate him.
His knees part mine and he presses his huge shaft between my arse cheeks, making sure I feel him there. He pushes two fingers into my drenched sex and draws the moisture back to my arse.
‘You need to relax.’
I nod, gripping the belt at my wrists, and my legs drop further apart.
I’ve never done this. But I want it.
‘Good girl.’
He reaches out and I hear him click open a lid. I gasp as cold gel touches my hole. He moves it around, preparing me. I’m nervous, anxious. But the feel of his fingers, slick through the lube, dipping inside me, it has me rolling my hips, shocked by how much I want him to claim this part of me.
He parts my cheeks wider and pushes gently, until his tip is just inside. I feel myself stretching and realise he’s started to move again. It’s strange but… okay.
‘Relax, baby.’
I breathe out the air I’ve been holding as he eases himself into me.
‘Fuck, that’s tight.’
It hurts at first and I don’t know if I like it.
But the pain passes and I’m more acutely aware of him than ever before.
The shape and size of his length. I groan, surprised by the pleasure I feel.
His fingers move back to my sex, his thumb to my tight knot, torturing my body, assaulting me as he moves himself, sliding until he’s fully inside.
In a way I couldn’t have imagined, I feel like I belong to him. Like he’s taken something I’ve never shared or wanted to share with anyone else. Only him.
I push my hips back, wanting more of the new kind of pleasure. The physical and the emotional. He moves slowly in and out of me, his fingers and cock working together in time to the music, sending my head into a trip.
His cock thickens and his rhythm builds slowly, his moves taking me to a crescendo. ‘Not yet,’ he growls. My erratic breaths come thick and fast as he increases his pace. ‘Fuck, Scarlett. I’m there, baby.’
I scream his name into the mattress and shatter.
The biggest orgasm I’ve ever had rips through my body, my limbs weightless, my pelvis bucking, my head in a frenzy.
He yanks my hips back and continues to crash into me until his release comes and I feel each spurt, my greedy muscles flexing in response.
He pulls out slowly, an alien feeling I don’t enjoy, and collapses us both on the mattress. His hands move immediately to my wrists, releasing me, then he takes the belt from my eyes. With one arm around my waist, he rolls us onto his back, nuzzling my neck, kissing my skin gently.
‘I can’t believe I get this forever.’
I wrap my arms around his and interlace our fingers. I can’t speak but I can make him feel how much I adore him. Any way. Every way. Always.