Chapter 23 #2
I kneel on the bed between her legs and put my hands on her thighs, pushing them further apart. She lets me. I run my palms up the inside of them, watching goosebumps follow my fingers. I stop just short of where she wants me.
"Tell me what you said at dinner."
Her eyes go wide. "Which part?"
"The line. The one that made me choke. Say it to me."
She stares at me. I see her understanding what I'm asking and why, the flush already climbing to her throat, already halfway to where I need her.
"Boys with dirty mouths," she pants, "and a little degradation streak."
"And is that what you want?" My fingers trace the crease of her thigh, light enough to make her hips shift toward my hand. "A dirty mouth and a little degradation?"
"Yes."
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, please."
I bend down and kiss the inside of her thigh, right where my hand had been.
"Tell me exactly what you want me to do to you. Full sentences. Don't be shy about it, because you weren't shy about it three hours ago when you ran your mouth in front of everyone."
She laughs, surprised. The kind that tells me she hadn't expected to laugh during this and doesn't know what to do with it. I bite the soft skin of her thigh, just enough for her to feel my teeth. The laugh turns into a gasp.
"I want you to make me beg." Her voice is unsteady now, stripped of its usual composure. "I want you to call me filthy things and I want to come so hard I can't remember my own name."
She stares down at me between her thighs, flushed and bare and trembling slightly. The sound of those words in her voice does more damage to me than any physical act could have.
"You can be such a good girl when you want."
The shiver again, moving through her like a current.
I put my mouth on her pussy before she can recover from it. I taste her and groan against her, and I can't help it. She's so wet already, so ready, and the sound she makes when my tongue finds her clit goes straight to my cock.
I work her slow, the way I learned last night, circling her clit with the flat of my tongue, then pulling back when her hips start chasing me.
"Stay still." I pin her hip with one hand. "You're not allowed to come yet."
"I can't," she gasps.
"You can." I lick her again, wet and warm. "You will."
She tries. The effort of it, the way her stomach trembles and her thighs shake against my shoulders, is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I reward her by pushing two fingers inside her and curling them up, and she makes a sound I want to inhale.
I bring her to the edge three times. Each time I feel her start to crest, clenching around my fingers, the pitch of her voice climbing, her grip in my hair going desperate, I pull back.
Slow down. Kiss her thigh, her hip, the skin below her navel.
While she curses at me and begs and calls me every name she can think of.
"Callahan, please, I need to, please just let me..."
"Tell me what you are."
She's panting, head thrown back, tears at the corners of her eyes from frustration. She's so far past the composed girl at the dinner table that I barely recognize her. I barely recognize myself.
"Tell me, now."
"I'm yours." She says it like she's breaking. "I'm your good girl, your needy slut, your whore, I'll be whatever you want, just please, please..."
She writhes beneath me, her thighs parting instinctively, her whole body arching toward my mouth.
"Callahan..." Her voice is edged with a sleepy whine that makes my balls tighten. "Fuck, please. No more. I need to come."
I drag lower, nudging her thighs open with my shoulders. Her pussy is even more swollen now, the sight alone makes my cock throb painfully.
She might need to come, but my tongue needs to stay on her cunt.
"This is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," I tell her, my voice thick even to my own ears.
I bury my face in her cunt because I am starved, my tongue flattening to lap broad strokes from her entrance up to her clit, and the sound she makes is worth every second of restraint I've shown tonight.
I suck her clit between my lips and tug gently, then harder, feeling it pulse under the pressure.
I hold her firmer, press my tongue flat to her clit, and go still.
One beat. Two. Until I feel it, the pulse of her.
Hot and swollen against my tongue, slick with her and with my mouth, and I can feel every throb of it.
This small, hard beat pushing back against me like her body is trying to fuck my tongue on its own.
I close my eyes and just feel it. Let it pulse against me.
Warm. Wet. Alive. This tiny, obscene proof that her body wants me so badly it's sending everything it has to the surface.
When I've had enough, when I've memorized the rhythm of it, I return to her drenched flesh.
"The most beautiful cunt," I murmur, the words vibrating through her. "The tightest cunt I've ever buried myself in."
I eat her like I can't get enough. Because I fucking can't.
"Taste so fucking good, dripping for me." I lick into her again, groaning at the taste of her on my tongue. "And it's all mine. My perfect, greedy little cunt to eat whenever I want."
I give her my mouth and my fingers and everything I have.
She comes so completely that I feel it through my whole body.
Her back arches off the bed, both hands leaving my hair to grip the sheets, and the sound that comes out of her is raw and high and gutted.
It goes on longer than either of us expected, wave after wave, her whole body shaking under me.
I stay with her through it, easing off slowly, gentling my mouth until she stops trembling.
When I kiss my way back up her body she pulls me in with shaking hands and kisses me hard, tasting herself on my lips.
"Now. Please, please, please..."
Yes. This is the state I wanted her in, her head thrashing, delirium overtaking her.
I push into her slowly, watching her face. Her eyes lock on mine and don't let go. She's still clenching from her orgasm, tight and hot, and I have to press my forehead to hers and breathe through the first few seconds.
The feeling of being inside her right now, after everything, with her still shaking under me and tears drying on her temples, is close to more than I can take.
I start to move and she moves with me. Her legs wrap around my hips, her hands find my back. I fuck her deep, keeping my eyes on hers because that's the whole point. The watching. The being seen. Her seeing me, all of me, the version I've hidden from every person in my life, and not looking away.
"Harder." Her voice is ragged, her nails dragging down my spine. "I can take it."
I know she can. She's been taking everything I have all night without hesitation, meeting me at every turn, matching me.
The realization that she's not just tolerating this part of me but wants it, asking for it, pulling me deeper into it, is so far beyond anything I've ever experienced that I have no frame of reference for it.
So I give her harder. I hook one hand under her knee and push it up, changing the angle, driving into her until the headboard knocks against the wall.
But it's not enough. I turn her over, lifting her hips up, pushing her head down on the bed. The sight of my cock in her pussy is almost too much, the way she takes me so perfectly, the sounds she's making as I fill her over and over.
She's stopped forming words and started making unintelligible sounds a few thrusts in.
"Look at you now." I don't recognize my own voice anymore. "A desperate, needy thing. Risking everything for my cum."