Chapter 24 #2
Wrapping my arms around her, I spin us until I’m hovering over her. She goes willingly. Her hands drop, brushing against my cock, and I still.
“Touch me and I’ll explode.” I kiss a trail up her throat and nibble on her ear, pushing a leg between hers. “I’m not ready for this to end yet.”
Her eyes are dilated. She’s panting. “But—”
“I’ve wanted to do this since we first met. Let me touch you.”
When she nods, I slide my hand under her dress. As my fingers slip up her thigh, I seek her mouth again, kissing her as I stroke over her soaked panties, over the exquisite softness that’s as hot as a furnace. I swallow down her whimper and run my thumb over her pussy.
Mari arches, hissing into my mouth as she kisses me back, deeper, harder, the primal edge blooming bright. Her kisses… I could come from the touch of her mouth on mine, the way her tongue twists and dances with mine. The way she seems to fit me.
I pull back suddenly, sitting up and breathing hard.
“Don’t…don’t stop,” she pleads.
I still can’t believe this is a fantasy brought to life.
She’s everything. Soft and hot and giving.
There’s a whole other world within her, and the greedy Mari is something I cherish, from the moment she pushed at me, sought my mouth, told me don’t stop.
She’s evocative in all the right ways. I like how she strains and her hands clench like she’s fighting her baser instincts.
But I want more.
I undo my belt, fingers shaking as I pull it free, and then after guiding her hands above her head, I wind it around her wrists and buckle it tight. I whisper against her ear, “Keep them there.”
I kiss my way down her body, pausing at her nipples pushing against her thin summer dress.
I suck on one of the hard tips through the cotton, and she moans.
I transfer to the other, and while I do so, I slide my hand under her dress again, straight to her panties.
She’s still hot. Still wet. And I stroke over her clit before I slip my fingers beneath the silky cloth.
I touch her flesh, and something within me changes. Like a feral beast awakening from a long slumber.
There’s no going back now.
I use my thumb to stroke her clit as I push two fingers into her, and she almost leaps.
Her hands strain. I can see them as I raise my head, watching her as I circle her clit and hook my fingers to find her G-spot, that perfect angle inside her to bring her the most pleasure.
Her breathing changes, her hips arching up when I find it, and I flutter my fingers. Hoping I’ve got this right.
She cries out as though her body is struck by a thousand bolts of lightning as I rub it in rhythmic beats, my fingers sliding in and out of her, hitting and massaging her inside and out.
Mari quivers, tries to speak, but all that comes out is a whimpering sound of desire and need.
I keep going, putting more pressure on her clit.
Little tremors start, rolling into bigger ones, and she gasps, voiceless, as her pussy contracts hard on my fingers, and her hands, still restricted, fly up and jerk against my belt.
She comes, a sudden onset of a storm. As the crescendo is reached, she gives a sob, and then everything calms.
Mari’s breathing hard. So am I.
But I’m not done. I’m going to taste her, put my mouth on her.
I slide down.
It’s insanity, a crime. It’s something I could be fired for because it goes beyond helping her. This is selfish. It could have me packed off to the mainland in shame, penniless, with no one to help me.
But I push her dress up, and she raises her hips in invitation. “Yes, Reece, please…”
“If you tell me no—”
“I want it all.” She frantically frees her hands from the belt and grabs at her panties, trying to pull them off herself.
I help her, sliding them down her legs enough for me to gaze on her glistening pussy. Oh, fuck, is she beautiful.
I take my time, studying her body, how the outer lips encase the secrets of her, the secrets I yearn to own. I taste the path up the middle of them, teasing them open, running back down along the inner lips, almost losing my self-control as I do.
The first taste of her on my tongue has me lightheaded.
Delicious. She tastes better than anything my mind could conjure.
I dip my head, licking her like she’s an exotic delight. Her sweet taste is more concentrated, with a touch of salt that only heightens it. I could lick and kiss and sample her forever.
I suck on her clit, my tongue flicking the little nub, and I’m mindless. Her sounds, her taste, they’re all her. Her slick is ambrosia, and I am but a weak mortal man, unworthy of this goddess in every way.
But the more I lick and lap at her, the more she moans and squirms until her thighs clench against my head and pin me in place.
I’m lost in her, devouring her. And when she comes this time, she screams, a thin high sound as the onslaught’s peak hits her hard, and the beats of her orgasm are almost savage through her clit.
Slowly, I ease back, wiping the slick from my chin.
It’s still not fucking enough. I need more. It’s clawing at me, that desire, my dick throbbing and uncomfortable. The air smells like marigolds, wildflowers, and sex, and I’m drowning in her.
I stand on wobbly legs and watch as she tries to sit up. She moves like she’s drunk, swaying and eyes glazed over. She’s fever-bright and more alluring than ever, if that’s even possible. Her cheeks are blushing red, her pupils blown wide.
Christ. One of her dress straps has fallen off her shoulder, revealing her breasts, the areolae pink and her nipple hard from my teasing earlier. My throat closes completely.
I start to wonder if her heat is affecting me as well because I’ve never felt this uncontrollable sexual hunger before. It’s exhilarating and terrifying at the same time.
“Mari…”
She’s a heady potion of desires and forbidden delights. I’m not immune, even as a Delta. Far from it. And I think…I think if I didn’t love Mari, I’d be able to walk away.
But I can’t because I do. I do love her. I always have.
It’s a truth that’s been screaming louder and louder in my head every day since the start of her Season: We’re in way over our heads.
And I don’t fucking care.