Chapter 6 #3
Until he pressed his engorged head against her lips.
She opened for him, tongue out, and he used the pad of his thumb to guide her jaw.
He didn’t push all the way into her mouth, just let her taste him, savor him.
She sucked lightly, earning another deep groan from him.
It was the most erotic thing she’d ever experienced: the power in her helplessness, the way he made her feel worshipped and desired, not used.
He guided her head at his pace and depth.
She tried to go faster, to take him deeper, but he didn’t let her.
His breathing was growing more labored, and she felt him swelling in her mouth, which made her own body coil with unspent release.
When she thought she’d lose her mind from the tension, he pulled out of her, then his mouth was on her neck, his tongue tracing a line of kisses up her chest, her throat, her jaw.
He stopped at her ear, his breath hot. “You look so fucking beautiful like that, with my cock in your mouth,” he murmured, and she believed him.
She could feel the sincerity in his voice, in his touch, in his breath.
Then he was gone. She heard him move, the mattress dipping as he maneuvered her.
Hands on her shoulders, he pressed her gently back, laying her across the cool sheets.
She complied, still blindfolded and exposed.
She didn’t know what he’d do next, and that was what made every second so sharp and sweet.
“Spread your legs,” he commanded, softer now, but no less certain.
Jenna obeyed, legs trembling as she parted them. The air kissed her inner thighs. She was wet, embarrassingly so, she could feel her arousal as the air hit her sex.
“Touch yourself,” he instructed, his voice a velvet blade.
She hesitated, not out of doubt but from the sheer foreignness of the command.
She felt the mattress dip beneath her, and his hands gripped her thighs, spreading her farther apart. His thumbs began making lazy circles just above her knee. “Touch yourself,” he instructed again.
This time, her hand slid between her thighs, and she found herself already wet, pulsing of want. She couldn’t see him, but she was acutely aware of his gaze. His breathing changed as soon as her fingers slid down her folds.
“Good girl,” he groaned.
The praise caused the seam of her pussy to pulse with need.
“Spread yourself for me.”
She did as he asked, spreading her folds apart.
He moaned. “So pretty, so pretty and pink and wet for me.”
The more he talked, the closer she got to coming.
“Remember you don’t come until I say you come.”
Could he read her mind?
“Now circle your clit with your finger.”
She did as he asked. Carefully. Her finger slowly circling her engorged nub. “Fuck,” she whimpered, it felt so good but not good enough. She wanted him to touch her, to lick her, to fuck her.
“What are you thinking?” he asked gruffly.
“That I want you…I want you to touch me, to lick me, to fuck me.”
His hands gripped her hips and pulled her down the bed to him roughly, and she felt his face between her legs. Felt his five o’clock shadow rubbing against her inner thigh.
“Remember, you don’t come until I say you come.” His breath fanned her sex.
She wanted to tell him she would do her best, but then he brushed her clit with the softest flick, made her gasp, then stroked her folds, gathering her wetness and her mind blank except for the feeling of being wanted so intensely and so singularly.
A whimper escaped her as her hands fisted the comforter at her side as her back arched.
She thought for sure the second he touched her, it would be over, but maybe he had some sort of voodoo over her body because she hadn’t.
She wasn’t sure how she was going to be able to obey him, but she would try.
He didn’t rush, didn’t force. He just explored, learning her, working her up with a patience that bordered on cruel. His tongue slid up her seam, and when it hit her pleasure nub, it was the best thing she’d ever felt in her life.
“You taste so good, so sweet,” he said, voice rough, and she let out a shaky exhale she hadn’t meant to. He sounded so earnest, so sweet, it was confusing to her brain.
He licked her, slow and thorough, savoring her, as if he had nowhere else to be.
He sucked her clit, then traced it with his tongue, then back again.
He alternated between soft, teasing flicks and hard, hungry pressure.
She lost all sense of time, of place, all she knew was the relentless ecstasy of his attention.
She was so close to the edge, she had no idea how she wasn’t going over it.
When he eased a finger inside her, curling it as he licked, she began to tremble uncontrollably. He seemed to sense how close she was, and he growled—an honest-to-god animal sound of satisfaction—before he doubled down, mouth and hand working in perfect tandem.
“I could eat you all fucking night,” he said, voice muffled by her flesh. “But now I want you to come on my mouth.”
That was it. His command sent her into another dimension. Her hips bucked, and she moaned, loud and shameless, her fingers clutching the sheets. It hit her in a single, blinding, tidal-rush of pleasure, an explosion that detonated in her core and traveled outward, lighting up every synapse.
His mouth never left her, his hands never stopped coaxing her, and he continued to coax her with dirty encouragements, pushing her further, higher, until she shattered into a thousand pieces.
She came hard, she saw stars, her body arching and trembling with every uncontrollable spasm, the sounds escaping her somewhere between a sob and a whimper.
He told her to give him all of her. She did.
She gave him everything, every ounce of sensation and need she’d ever had, and he devoured it, working her through the waves, not pulling back even as her thighs quaked and her stomach clenched and her hands scrabbled for purchase on the sheets.
If anything, he became more possessive, holding her open, lapping up every tremor, every gasp, every shiver of aftershock.
His tongue traced lazy, claiming circles over her clit, as if he were inscribing his name onto her body.
Not that she knew what that was. She had never known anything like it, never believed in this kind of loss of control, this absolute surrender.
Dimly, she was aware of his hands moving, broad palms anchoring her hips as if she might levitate off the mattress if he didn’t hold her down.
The world was a pinhole of sensation, her body became the only geography that existed, mapped by his mouth, his words, and the heat of his breath as he whispered, “You’re so fucking perfect. ”
Then he kissed her, and he was gone. For a long, floating moment, she stayed there, spinning in the afterglow, unable to do much more than breathe and feel and absorb the reality of what he’d just done to her.
She was barely aware that he had removed her blindfold as she began to recover.
As she blinked her eyes open, she found him standing in front of her totally naked, and every thought in her brain disappeared.
Nothing else than the two of them existed, actually, when she saw the size of him, maybe it was the three of them.