Chapter Twelve #2
Felicity sighed in frustration. Desire and embarrassment warred with each other in her mind, but in the end, passion won, and she moved his fingers to the apex of her thighs.
She gasped. This was nothing like when she’d touched herself.
His fingers were rougher, longer, thicker, and knowing it was him, having him here beside her, drove her to delicious distraction.
His fingers slid along the outside of her sex, the sensation and pleasure doubling near the top.
Her hips bucked against his fingers, and she softly cried his name.
“Tristan please, I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know my own body.”
He teased the tip of her nipple with a soft bite, and in answer, he firmed his fingers, brushing his thumb across the sensitive spot. Her thighs shook as she looked down at what his hand was doing, and the sight was so vivid and erotic she sucked in a gasp.
“You have to relax,” Tristan said. “The pleasure won’t come if you’re resisting it. Let yourself go.”
“But I don’t know if I’m doing this right. I need your help.”
“You’re doing it perfectly. There is no right way, only what feels good.”
Felicity pulled her hand away and covered her face.
She sensed Tristan pulling away. “Does this not feel good?”
“Yes . . . I don’t know. It does feel good, but I don’t know what it’s supposed to feel like or what I’m supposed to do. I’m embarrassed and exposed and . . . helpless.”
Felicity opened her eyes again and Tristan was sitting up, brow furrowed.
“Please don’t leave.”
He chuckled. “I’m not going to leave. Not until I’ve made you come.
I wanted to give you the control, but if it is too much, then I’ll happily show you.
Here.” He took the blanket off the end of her bed, and they adjusted themselves until they lay lengthwise, side by side.
He covered them with the blanket to the neck, creating a cocoon of skin and heat.
“Is this better?”
Felicity nodded. “But I can’t see your body, and you can’t see mine.”
“No, but we can feel each other.”
They rolled to face each other. He cupped her breast and Felicity put a hand over his beating heart.
He caught her lips in a kiss and Felicity sank into him.
This was better. Closer. She liked facing him like this.
The hand at her breast moved to her hip and then lower.
He cupped the back of her knee and moved her leg over his thigh.
“Are you ready for me to touch you?”
“Yes,” Felicity whispered. The idea of touching herself was frustrating, but the thought of him touching her—that made her warm and tingly between her thighs. Imagining him had not been enough. Not when the real him was so vibrant and magnetic.
He ran his hand up her thigh, sliding casually inward until his fingertips touched her sex. Felicity bit her lip, still nervous, but her excitement growing as his stare held hers and he brushed his fingers along her wetness.
“You feel like velvet, Flick,” he said, his tone dark and sultry. “I want to taste you.”
Felicity closed her eyes, his voice sinking into her bones and weighing her body down.
“Yes,” she said breathlessly.
“Yes?” he teased.
He again brushed that sensitive nook, and she bucked against his hand, searching for more friction.
“That’s my girl. Let your body feel what it wants. Don’t hold back. I’ll go slow and you can tell me to stop at any moment.”
Felicity nodded and licked her lips. His fingers danced around the entrance to her body, one tip pressing further. Her thighs tightened, her nervousness returning. But nothing hurt.
He repeated the move, sliding the finger further.
“Relax, Flick. I’m going to make you see stars.”
Felicity smiled at his arrogance. “Is that so?”
“Absolutely. One of my many talents.”
He slid the finger deeper, this time coordinated with the swipe of his thumb, and she moved with him. His finger went deeper and the sensation of him inside her sent her mind reeling.
“Oh, Tristan.”
“When you come all over my hand. I’m going to lick my fingers clean and know how delicious you taste.”
“Tristan! That’s wicked!”
He chuckled unremorsefully. “It’s pleasure, Flick. Yours and mine. There is nothing wicked or sinful about it. It’s how we were designed to be.”
A second finger joined the first and Felicity arched as this new sensation warred with her building desire and anxious thoughts. It didn’t hurt, but it was strange. Then he swirled his thumb around the top of her sex and ecstasy shot through her body like shooting stars.
“Oh,” she gasped.
He slid his fingers in and out while his thumb worked its magic, and soon Felicity didn’t know what she was doing, or what sounds she made, but she was lost to it, her body moving with the rhythmic thrusts of his fingers.
She was swimming in a sea of bliss, a current drawing on her body, pulling her closer and closer to the coming wave that crashed over the rapture rushing though her body.
Felicity cried out and his mouth covered hers to blanket the sound.
Stars. So many stars. He kept kissing her as her body trembled and luxuriated in the swiftly following release of all her tension. His hand slowed and he slipped his fingers out of her body.
“There now, how did that feel?”
Felicity opened her eyes, his face bleary until she blinked it clear.
“That was incredible. That is what everyone feels?”
“That is how everyone should feel.” He brought his fingers to his mouth, glistening with her arousal and sucked his fingers.
Felicity’s mouth popped open. This should disgust her, but instead she felt beautiful, worshiped, that he desired every part of her.
“Mm,” he murmured. “What would it take for you to let me kiss you here?” he asked as he moved his wet fingers down toward her core again and stroked her.
“Again? Is that possible?”
“Oh, Flick. Your innocence is so charming. It’s more than possible, and I have a feeling you’re going to be addicting.”
Felicity didn’t know what to say to that as he moved lower, hidden under the blanket. His mouth carved a path of sweet heat to her belly, his naughty hands pinching her nipples as he rolled her to her back and settled between her thighs. Her stomach fluttered nervously.
“Tristan, are you sure this is right?”
He lifted the blanket to meet her gaze. The sight of him there, his black hair tousled, his face framed by her thighs sent her wits scattering. She forgot the point she was going to make.
“It would be wrong if I didn’t, Flick.” He looked down at her sex. “So wrong not to worship you with my whole body, especially my tongue.”
Felicity could only stare. This sight would never leave her mind, and she didn’t want it to. She was stunned into silence, but also tingling, and heat washed over her skin and pooled at her center where she wanted him so desperately.
He grinned at her like he knew all her wanton secrets and then he took her bottom into his hands and set his mouth right over her center, using his tongue to probe her and he groaned as he did it, the vibration flowing into her delicate, sensitive flesh.
The axis of her world tilted. The sensations and pleasure were so intense she shamelessly gripped his hair in her fingers as wave after wave of pleasure washed through her, growing stronger, heavier, as she panted and moaned, moving her hips restlessly in his grip.
He did not relent. This time, when the eclipse of rapture burst through her body, she caught herself and bit her lip to keep from screaming his name.
He finished his expert ministrations with a long slow lick and kissed the inside of her thigh, sucking on the sensitive skin until it stung and then he licked the soreness away.
Then moved back up her body. Felicity couldn’t move as he shuffled them once more, side by side, facing each other. Her heavy-lidded eyes would not open.
“Look at me, Flick.”
“I can’t. I’m weightless, but also every part of me is too heavy to move.”
“I wish you could see how beautiful you look right now, flushed with passion and sated. I could stare at you forever.”
Felicity’s heart did a flip, and she forced herself to open her eyes. He was watching her, eyes roaming over her face and body with a half-smile.
“You look smug,” Felicity said.
He grinned. “I’m beyond smug. I’m the king of smug with your taste on my tongue, and I marked you where no one will ever see but me. I could die happy right now.”
“Don’t say such things.”
“Don’t fret, love. It’s only a metaphor for the satisfaction I feel.”
“But I’m certain you’re supposed to take part, aren’t you?”
“No.”
“Yes?”
“Flick, our time together is about you.”
“Shouldn’t I know how to please you?”
“Your pleasure is my pleasure.”
Felicity, in her hazy mind reached for him, her hand brushing against the firm outline of his restrained manhood.
He grumbled. “I’ll take care of that later.”
“I want you to show me how to give you pleasure. It’s not fair otherwise.”
“Life has been unfair to you enough already. I’m evening the score.”
“I want to touch you. You said I could do whatever I wanted.”
“I did say that. I can’t for the life of me understand why I’m arguing about this.”
“Are you afraid I won’t like how it looks?” she asked.
He scowled at her. “Now I am.”
Felicity giggled, struck by the absurdity that she was naked with a man, laughing, and trying to convince him to let her play with his cock. But this was how it always was with Tristan. Easy.
“Please, Tristan?”
He rolled to his back and folded his arms behind his head which made his arms look impressively large. Felicity drew the blanket down his chest, just past the bulge in his trousers. She poked at it, drawing a clipped laugh from him.
“It won’t bite.”