Chapter 19 #4
“On the contrary,” he whispered, kissing her ear, “I found myself afire with desire for you, especially because you seem to want me. Even now, I lust for you.”
Ellen recognized the hardness of him against her belly, just barely tucked into his still gaping trousers. “Mmmm.”
“Yes, come back and let me please you.” Mark drew her back to the seats and the rug in between them and the fire, and he was so casually confident Ellen forgot about her humiliation and let him lead her back into desire.
Mark had her stand in front of the chair, and he knelt before her.
His deft fingers reached up inside her skirts and unhooked her garters, then slid the stockings down.
He lifted her skirts, then nudged her down on the seat and flipped up her skirt so her bare thighs and lacy combination were exposed to the warm firelight.
He spread the slit in her combination wide and gazed with such adoration that Ellen blushed.
“Glorious. Such soft pink petals.”
Her nerves faded at his compliment, and she gasped as he leaned in to give one long, slow lick from the bottom of her sex all the way past the top and kissed her dark curls.
“Now I have you,” he murmured, or at least that’s what she thought he murmured, as one hand slid up the soft skin of her inner thigh and spread out her folds. She was already so aroused by his attentions that her skin glistened with readiness.
With a moan of pleasure, Mark dove in. He licked and sucked each fold of skin.
He probed her slit, fitting as much of his tongue inside as he could, then moved north, where he knew she liked it best. Mark groaned into her as he slid two fingers inside, slick and easy, and flicked his tongue across the tight bud of nerves at the top of her sex.
Ellen gasped and clutched at his hair. “Oh, Mark.”
He used two fingers to spread her wide, to get at the secret, hidden places of her.
Ellen whimpered and writhed in the chair, whispering please, there, oh please right there, over and over again.
Mark paused and nipped her thigh in chastisement.
“I cannot suck you where you want it if you keep moving,” he said with laughter in his voice.
Ellen wasn’t embarrassed, because his laughter was delight in her pleasure, in the joy he created for them.
Still, she obeyed and forced her body to remain still even as the tingling sensation spread from her core throughout her belly, sending sparks up her spine and throughout her body.
And still the crescendo of pleasure grew.
Mark flicked the tip of his tongue up and down, emphasizing the upstroke, against her pearl, and she gasped at the sensation. “Yes, oh please, yes, right there. Don’t stop.”
His fingers fucked her, pressing so deep she could nearly feel him against her cervix, twisting and stroking and rubbing at all the nerves inside her. Mark huffed hot air as he moved his tongue again, and she lost all the air in her lungs.
“Don’t stop. Whatever you do, don’t stop.
” Ellen strained as the pleasure mounted, turning so sharp it was almost painful.
And she followed it, seeking release the higher and higher it pitched inside her.
Each time it was so strong and pure she thought, surely, now, now she would spend.
But the pleasure ducked and swooped inside her, and she fought hard to keep in pursuit.
“Push me over the edge. Please, oh please push me over the edge,” she begged.
And finally it came. It was a crest that blossomed slowly into something greater, as she slipped into her orgasm, and then it tumbled like an avalanche around her and she was buried beneath the sensations.
Ellen gasped for relief, for breath, and felt his hand come up and rest between her breasts, against her heart, to steady her.
She gasped for air as Mark righted her combination, flipped her skirts back down, and kissed the inside of her ankle.
She shuddered as he smiled and pulled her off the chair and into his lap on the floor.
Ellen curled into a ball, leaning against him, and held on as she reoriented herself with Earth.
After a few moments, Ellen looked up at him, to see him gazing down at her with such open affection and tenderness that she nearly forgot what she was going to say.
“Your turn. We can dispense with the rubber sheath since that ship sailed.”
Mark laughed as he massaged the nape of her neck with one hand. “Later. You’re wrung out.”
Ellen opened her mouth to protest, but someone knocked on the door and announced supper was ready.
Still shaking, her clitoris still throbbing and over sensitive, she followed Mark to dinner and tried not to wince when she sat and her clothing pressed tight against her sex. After supper, she told herself. When we go to bed, I’ll make sure he finds the same release I did.
But as they readied for bed, she felt ill and barely made it to the basin on her dresser before becoming sick again. And then although she planned to do something with him the next day, it all fell apart.