Chapter 21 #3
“I want to do it because I fucking love to eat pussy, peaches.” He kissed me, deep and hard, then pressed his forehead to mine.
“I really want to ease you into this, but after the way you just came around my fingers screaming my name, I gotta have it now. You gonna let me taste you, baby? You gonna let me make you scream for me again?”
Dear gods, the way he said it, the look in his eyes… He truly wanted to do it. He wanted to…to taste me. “What if I suffocate you?”
He laughed again, lower and rougher than before.
“Then I’ll die a happy male.” I opened my mouth to tell him that wasn’t funny.
“First, I’m immortal, so even if it was possible for you to cut off my oxygen supply, I’ll be fine.
Secondly, that’s not going to happen, because despite what you think, you weigh nothing.
I can lift you easily, something I’d love to demonstrate if you’ll just sit on my face, Tempest. Please, right the fuck now, before I lose my damned mind. ”
I blinked down at him. He seemed to really want this.
How the heck would I know if this was what people did?
I hadn’t had time to read the new section in the Matildas’ grimoire.
I did know that lovers were supposed to make each other feel good.
He’d done that for me, and if having a female sit on his face made Fender feel good, then who was I to argue?
He’d rebutted my argument with sound logic.
I could grin and bear it if this was what he really wanted. “Okay, I’ll do it—”
I shrieked as he hauled me up his body as if I literally weighed nothing, then set me right there on his face. I grabbed for the headboard, so I didn’t crush his head.
Fender’s hands went to my outer thighs, then slid lower, and he took my weight, again as if I was not the substantial size I was.
Okay, this was fine, I could sit here for a while if that’s what he wanted, I guess—his mouth closed over me. Oh…okay. Well, this actually felt quite nice.
He swiped his tongue deep, right through my center.
My head fell back on a drawn-out moan, so wanton it took me by surprise.
What followed was Fender lapping and sucking and flicking and driving me wild all over again.
I thought this was for him, but it was for me.
Though going by the hungry growls he was making, it was apparently for both of us.
He sucked on my clit, and miraculously, I came again, shaking and making sounds I’d never made in my entire life.
When I caught my breath, I realized one of his hands was gone from my thigh and was moving behind me.
Panting, I turned, and he was massaging the huge erection through a pair of loose shorts.
He wanted to experience the same release that he’d given me.
I climbed off him and he let me. His lids were heavy and lust burned in the depths of his eyes as he watched me.
“Tell me what to do, let me make you feel good too,” I said.
I bit my lip, eyeing his groin, and held my breath as he shoved his shorts down, freeing what he had been massaging. His erection…cock, was enormous. It was thick and veined and a darker shade than the rest of him.
“You can just watch if that’s all you’re ready for,” he said, panting now.
Yes, it was intimidating, but Fender was my lover, and this was something I wanted to do for him. I shook my head and looked up at him. “Tell me what to do,” I said again.
“Wrap your hands around me.”
I did. I wrapped my fingers around him. He was so hot and hard and the skin was silky soft. “You’re so hard and…and big.”
“You do this to me. I’ve never been this hard before. Fucking never.” His hips churned like he was in pain. “Stroke me, up and down…that’s it. Squeeze me tighter.” He gasped, his head falling back. “Yeah, peaches. Fuck, yes, like that.”
My pussy clenched at the need in his voice and the beauty of his body, at imagining this part of him sliding inside of me. I stroked, watching him intently. Every muscle in his body was taut and bulging, his veins were visibly outlined through his skin now.
Clear liquid dribbled from the tip, until it was a constant stream and made my strokes easier.
I slid my hands up and down, testing, teasing.
He moaned when I squeezed the head and stroked faster.
Yes, I liked this very much. I liked making Fender writhe under my hands, making him moan and gasp and strain for me.
I shivered, my imagination running wild.
“What are you thinking about, Tempest?” he said on a growl, as if he could read my mind.
I met his hot gaze. “I’m imagining what it will feel like with your…your cock inside me.”
He hissed out a harsh breath, his hips jerked up, and a creamy liquid burst from the tip in streams, landing on his tight stomach and coating my hands. Fender was coming. I’d made him come like he had me.
Pleasure filled me, and I smiled up at him. “Well, I think I did that correctly,” I said pleased with myself.
Fender cursed and, panting, grabbed me around the waist, hauled me up his body, and kissed me, and I was pretty sure he was laughing while he did.