Chapter 20
Montrell was kneeling between her legs, his hands gentle as he squeezed her thighs. He stared at her pussy like it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
Her mind had gone blissfully blank even before he leaned into her and used his tongue to spread her lips open from bottom to top. Well, almost the top. He stopped before he reached her clit, which surprised her, but apparently it was her lips he wanted to devour. He began kissing them and sucking in a way she’d never considered, his face literally buried in her pussy, and she couldn’t wrap her mind around it at all. Especially not when he gave a deep and desperate sounding moan as he sucked her lip into his mouth.
“M-Montrell?” she asked, not sure why her voice was trembling as her legs tried to close.
He pulled away enough to look up at her, meeting her eyes from where he was between her thighs. His own looked dazed with need.
He turned his face against her inner thigh, placing a kiss there that make her flesh tingle at the feel of his lips and beard. His tongue flicked against her skin before he kissed again. “Relax, Bea. I’m going to take my time.”
And then he did that slow, long lick again. Montrell was a big man. Even his tongue felt huge.
His nose almost nudged her clit as he breathed in deeply. “Fuck, you smell good.” He mouthed her lip again. “Taste good too. I’ve been craving this taste.”
Any wetness down there was from his saliva. There was nothing for him to taste. Beatrice swallowed as her nerves returned. “But I’m not—”
His hands squeezed her thighs hard, choking off her protest as her eyes met his. “You’re perfect, Bea. Say any different, and I’ll get mad.”
He had that petulant tilt to his lips. On a man the size of him, the pout was too adorable for words. And she realized the wine had made him tipsy after all.
No wonder he was letting himself be a bit more forceful.
His lips mouthed her thigh. “You’re nervous. I dove in too fast, didn’t I?” His eyes closed as he gave her a little bite that shot a throb higher into her. “Sorry. I was impatient. Let’s help you relax.” His hands massaged her thighs as his lips drifted and kissed and nipped. Her skin tingled as he reached the crease in her leg and sucked.
Beatrice fell back against her arms. They trembled as she held her torso slightly up. More than anything, she wanted to watch him.
“That’s a good girl,” he said with soothing strokes of his hands that encouraged her legs to spread wider. “Relax for me. Let me take my gift.”
The word ‘take’ sent another pulse through her. He was holding back—she knew it—but he was in charge.
And suddenly she no longer had it in her to worry. Montrell would take care of her.
He kissed over her pubic hair before he parted her with his fingers.
“Your smell is driving me crazy. I want the hell out of you, Bea.”
And he licked her again. This time he drew up closer to her clit, and instead of trying to close, she wished her legs could spread wider. But they were trembling too much as he continued to lick her, over and over again.
His eyes met hers as he dragged his tongue over her. His hands shifted her thighs over his shoulders, her knees bending to rest her lower legs along his back. “No shaking,” he murmured. “Let me take care of you. Just feel.” And he pushed his tongue inside of her.
The penetration was slow, but deeper than she expected. Deeper than he’d let his finger go. But though his tongue pushed inside her, there was no pain.
As he withdrew and thrust, his tongue steady and rhythmic, the throbbing returned. Only the ache wasn’t where he worked inside of her. No, it was higher, like her clit was begging for attention.
Her hips arched into the next thrust of his tongue, and the ache felt more intense as he made a broken sound. “Yes, Bea.” His hands moved under her ass, cupping it and pulling her into the next thrust of his tongue on his own. His eyes were on her again, but the irises had widened so that they looked almost black instead of brown.
Beatrice’s breath caught at the way he looked at her.
When his tongue withdrew and slid up, tantalizingly close to reaching the point where she’d really begun to throb, her arms gave out, her back hitting the table.
“Please, Montrell,” she begged.
His chuckle hummed against her, vibrating where she needed him to touch. “That’s my good girl.” He licked again, but around the area she wanted him, not over it. “Tell me you need this.”
She tried to shift, but his hands held her tight. When his tongue flicked and teased slightly above the throb, she didn’t recognize the desperate sound she made. Her legs tried to shift, closing tighter around him.
“Oh, fuck, yes. Squeeze those thighs to keep me close.” His tongue was stroking faster, making her feel more out of control as he swirled and circled closer. His hands loosened on her ass, reaching for her hands instead. He dragged them to his hair. “I want to feel you tug on me.”
And already she was trying to move his head that inch herself. His chuckle vibrated again, making her cry out. “Such a good girl. Tells me you want it.” And for an instant, his tongue slid right over that throb.
Beatrice almost blew apart, but he was already gone. “More,” she begged.
But his tongue had lowered to thrust inside again, making her desperation writhe higher. He growled as he fucked her with his tongue, over and over. Only one of his hands had returned to her ass. The other splayed over her pelvis, holding her down as she tried to thrust.
Her legs shook as another whine slipped out.
His tongue pulled out and stroked up. One perfect, delicious stroke before he circled where she needed him. It made her want to sob. Maybe she was already sobbing. She was certainly making noises.
“Fuck, I can feel how close you are. Need me to send you over, baby?”
She was trying to drag him to the intense ache. She couldn’t say anything, could only make those sounds.
But Montrell knew. Finally, his tongue slid right over the throb, and there was instant relief, but as his tongue returned, over and over, firm and steady and slow, the relief was chased away behind a flood of sensation that twisted and ached and burst into a convulsive tightening inside her.
Montrell’s groan vibrated against her as he stroked her through the orgasm.
Her body had melted into the table by the time it was over.
Only it wasn’t over. When she managed to open her eyes, he was staring up at her. And his tongue was back to circling.
“Fuck, you’re amazing.” His hand squeezed her ass as he dipped lower, lapping at where he’d dipped inside before. “More,” he growled. “And this time, pull even harder on my hair. Tug the shit out of it when what I do feels too good.”
And he started all over again. His deep, rich voice sent a rush of skimming sensation over her skin. He didn’t tease her as long the second time. He tongued right above where she wanted him, and her hands tightened and pulled.
“Yes. That’s my good girl,” he praised her as his tongue rewarded her with that same firm, slow rhythm as before.
It didn’t take long before her body was lifting into the pulsing that had returned.
He held her down as he talked her through it, telling her how amazing she was even though he shouldn’t have been able to talk, not with his tongue so busy.
Her whole body was shaking in reaction. She noticed it as she stared up at the ceiling, lost in feeling as his tongue seemed to wrap around her sensitive clit.
The sudden suck was light and delicate and intense.
She cried out in shock as the ache and throb built swiftly. Too swiftly. It was intense and sharp, and the sensation held. Her hands twisted in his hair as her eyes squeezed shut and she tried to hump his face, not sure if she was trying to get closer or shake him off. Montrell sucked, the pull slightly harder.
But still not enough. She suddenly felt empty. Achingly empty and desperate.
“Please!” she sobbed, her hips trying to lift. “I need—” But she didn’t know what she needed. Only that the buildup continued to rise, not cresting over even as his rhythm slowed and became intent on breaking her.
His hand slid down her ass and between her legs. His fingers pushed inside her, filling the emptiness to her relief as they thrust just where she needed them, adding an even tighter spike of pleasure from inside.
She screamed as her body pulsed and writhed in relief.
It was more relief than she realized. Her mind went numb as it felt like she lost control of herself in another way, but her orgasm was clenching around his fingers and she couldn’t wrap her mind around what had happened.
When she’d collapsed against the table, feeling wrung out and embarrassed, Montrell lifted his head. His eyes were wide and so intent as he stared at her. There was a wetness to his beard that made her want to crawl into a hole and die.
“Fuck, you can squirt?” he asked, his tone one she hadn’t heard before.
She shook her head, still too dazed to focus.
When he slid his fingers out from inside her, she felt a clenching and whimpered. “Please. No more.”
Montrell shoved his fingers in his mouth, sucking them clean.
The sight made her throb. It was too much, and she tried to curl up in a ball, but only her torso could curl.
Montrell moved her legs off his shoulders when she whimpered. “Oh, baby,” he murmured. As her body finally curled into itself, his arms wrapped around her, pulling her against his chest.
He collapsed in the chair he’d shoved out of his way at some point, holding her close. “Shh, I’ve got you.” His erection pressed against her ass, but his hands were gentle as they stroked over her back. “Sorry, Bea. I got carried away.”
Her body was limp mush, and her mind felt the same way. A sniffling sob caught her off guard, and she buried her nose into his neck.
“Oh, fuck, no, you’re safe. It’s all over. You came so beautifully. You rocked my world, Bea.” His arms engulfed her, bringing a peace that unfurled something warm inside her chest. It didn’t take away the tears, but her face snuggled against him as her body relaxed into his strength.
“So I got wet this time?” she asked, her words almost slurring.
His arms tightened. “Stop judging yourself. You were perfect. Your body works just as it should.”
He sounded stern instead of sweet, but his tone let the rest of her worry seep away.
She rubbed her damp cheeks against his shirt, the buttons bumping her nose. Then her eyes drifted shut as her hands wrapped around his neck.
His breath ruffled her hair, but even that felt good. Warm and safe.
“Tired?” he asked.
She made a noise of assent as she held him tighter.
He held her tighter in return. “Sleep then. I’ll get you home.”
She liked the sound of that. It felt like she really had a home he could take her to.