Chapter 7 - Morgan #2
He unbuttons them, slides down the zipper, and hooks his fingers into the waistband. I lift my hips, and he pulls them down slowly, dragging them over my thighs, my knees, my ankles, until they're pooled on the floor.
I'm sitting on his desk in nothing but my bra and panties, and I should feel self-conscious. I should be thinking about my belly rolls, my thick thighs, all the parts of me that don't look like the women in magazines.
But the way Casey's looking at me, like I'm the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, makes all of that disappear. His hands slide up my calves, gentle and warm, then higher, over my knees.
When he reaches my inner thighs, I gasp.
He smiles, that devastating smile that makes my heart stutter, and then he leans down and presses a kiss to my knee.
Then another one, higher up.
Then another.
Each kiss is soft, reverent, and it's driving me absolutely insane. He's taking his time, mapping every inch of my skin with his mouth, and I'm already trembling.
By the time he reaches my inner thigh, I'm practically vibrating with need.
"Casey," I breathe, my fingers digging into the edge of the desk.
He looks up at me, his blue eyes dark and heated. "You okay?"
"Yes. God, yes. Just… Please."
He kisses higher, so close to where I need him that I can feel his warm breath through the fabric of my panties. And then he presses his mouth right there, right against my pussy, and I make a sound I've never made before.
A whimper. A moan. Something desperate and needy.
The fabric is thin, thank God I wore the decent panties today and not the ratty period underwear, but it's still a barrier, and I want it gone. Casey seems to read my mind. He hooks his fingers into the sides of my panties and looks up at me one more time.
"You're sure?" he asks, his voice rough.
I nod frantically. "Yes. Please, Casey. I'm sure."
He pulls them down, and the cool air hits my overheated skin, making me shiver. And then Casey just... stares.
For a moment, I panic. Is something wrong? Does he not like what he sees?
But then he speaks, "You have a gorgeous pussy, Morgan."
Before I can process that, before I can even begin to formulate a response, he dives in. His tongue slides through my folds, and my entire body jolts like I've been electrocuted.
"Oh fuck," I gasp, my head falling back.
I've touched myself before. I've gotten myself off more times than I can count. But this… This is something entirely different.
His tongue is warm and wet and skilled, moving in ways I didn't even know were possible. He licks up my slit slowly, thoroughly, like he's savoring every second of it. When he reaches my clit, he circles it with the tip of his tongue, and I nearly come apart right there.
"Casey," I moan, my hands flying to his hair.
I don't know if I'm trying to pull him closer or push him away, the pleasure is almost too much, too intense. He doesn't stop. He keeps licking, keeps exploring, like he's trying to memorize every part of me.
Then he does something with his tongue… A flick, a swirl, I don't even know, and I cry out, my thighs clamping around his head. He groans against me, the vibration sending another wave of pleasure through my body, and uses his hands to gently push my thighs apart again.
"Keep them open for me," he murmurs, and the words go straight to my core.
I try. God, I try. But every time his tongue hits a particularly sensitive spot, my legs want to close, want to trap him there forever.
He's eating me out like a man starved, like this is the best thing he's ever tasted. His tongue moves from my clit down to my entrance, and then he's pushing inside, fucking me with his tongue, and I'm making sounds I didn't know I was capable of.
"So sweet," he mutters against me. "Fuck, Morgan, you taste so good."
I'm already close. Embarrassingly close. I can feel the orgasm building low in my belly, spreading outward like wildfire.
"Casey, I'm… Oh God, I'm going to—"
"Come for me," he says, and then he seals his lips around my clit and sucks.
My back arches off the desk, my hands fisting in his hair, and I'm crying out his name as waves of pleasure crash over me. Casey doesn't stop. He keeps licking, keeps sucking, drawing out my orgasm until I'm shaking and oversensitive and begging him to stop.
Finally, he pulls back, his face glistening with my juices, and the sight of it is almost enough to make me come again.
"Holy shit," I pant, my chest heaving.
He grins, looking entirely too pleased with himself. "Good?"
"Good? Casey, that was incredible! I've never—" I can't even form a complete sentence.
He stands, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and I can see the massive bulge in his jeans, straining against the fabric.
"I'm glad," he says, his voice low and rough. "Because I'm nowhere near done with you."
I look at him, at this beautiful man who just gave me the most intense orgasm of my life, and I realize something.
I want more. I want everything.
"Then don't stop," I whisper.
His eyes darken, and he reaches for his belt.
"I don't plan to."