Forest For The Trees #2
Her protest was silent as she allowed him to kiss her, snaking his tongue into her mouth and swallowing anything she might've said anyhow.
And, she was so ashamed of the way she closed her eyes and kissed him back.
Her fingers gripped the back of his head as if it were muscle memory and she licked her tongue against his, dueling in an attempt to siphon as much of his flavor as possible, knowing that this was something forbidden.
Something she'd never get the chance to experience again.
She hadn't gotten a proper goodbye, and it wasn't until that moment that she realized she'd needed it.
They went from being giddy and flirty and sexy to being mortified at what they'd shared physically and what that meant for what they shared genetically.
And when his hands came to her waist and then slid down to her hips, an involuntary tremble ran through her.
It felt like it had been years since she'd felt his touch in that way instead of just a couple of weeks.
How was it possible that she missed it as much as she did?
It had been almost two years since she'd had sex before him.
She knew how to survive without being touched.
Yet, once he touched her that first time under the table at the restaurant she felt marked. Branded. Ruined.
But then his fingers dipped into the waistband of her leggings and her heart stuttered in her chest. She pulled back from the kiss, eyes wide open as she stared at him.
Swiping his tongue along his bottom lip, Arturo met and held her gaze as he ran his hands underneath her pants from the side to the back, slipping his hands fully inside of the elastic and cupping her ass.
A gasp spilled from her lips but nothing else. She waited on baited breath for what he would do next. This was dangerous for so many reasons. Her heart was racing. Terror flooding her veins. But she stood there, stock still, eyes on his.
Slowly, he lowered himself to one knee, pulling her leggings down as he went.
When the fabric reached her calves, he grasped her left leg, pulled her foot out of her shoe, and tugged the material fully off of her leg.
Once she was exposed to the elements, he then grasped her calf and lifted it to his shoulder.
Her mouth gaped open as she stared at him.
There was no mistaking what he intended to do.
With his eyes on hers, he gripped her thigh firmly and, with his other hand, brushed his thumb up through her already soaked lips until his digit met her clit.
Instinctively, she reached for him, her breath stuttering at the contact.
She gripped his shoulder, digging her fingers into the naked flesh.
Finally breaking eye contact, his eyes fluttered closed as he leaned forward and ran his nose along the crease of her spread-open thigh and pelvis.
Dragging his nose across the nest of curls covering her mound, he inhaled deeply and released a self-satisfied breath.
The vision alone was positively obscene but the sound of him enjoying her scent made her clench in a very visible way.
His eyes popped open as if he'd heard the muscles contract and needed to see it for himself.
Unbidden, her body gave him what he was looking for, and it wasn't shame that heated her this time.
When he dragged his eyes back up her exposed body to meet her gaze, she whimpered.
The softness he held darkened to something carnal.
Something feral. Pressing his hips forward, he moved closer to her.
"Tell me to stop," he commanded.
Or…pleaded. Twyla's brain was jumbled and overwhelmed. Was he asking her or telling her? Did she have a choice? Was it truly up to her when he'd already brought them this far?
She parted her lips, ready to tell him to release her in so many ways but when she spoke, all she could do was parrot what he'd been saying since she realized she wasn't alone in the forest.
"Please."
The moment the word fell from her lips, Arturo sprang into action. He didn't feign ignorance, seemingly knowing exactly what she meant. Leaning in, he first pressed a kiss to those same curls he'd just sniffed, then he parted her lips with his tongue and began to devour her.
He lapped at her folds and ate with an ardent fervor.
And Twyla unravled. With her back against the tree, she plunged both of her hands into his short curls, gripping the strands and holding on for dear life.
She wasn't gentle and neither was he. As the forest began to lighten around them and the fog dissipated, Twyla stared down at the man who, not too long ago, she was certain was her future husband.
Arturo made her feel things in a way she hadn't in so long that she'd forgotten she had the ability to.
It wasn't just the lust. It was the care, the consideration, the reassurance.
There had been intention in every interaction they'd had.
It didn't just give her hope, it gave her a plan.
They were supposed to be locked in—two peas in a pod.
Twyla just hadn't expected the pod to be from the same family tree.
This is wrong.
Stop him.
Say something.
But what could she say right then that would mean anything?
Arturo opened his eyes and looked up at her, his mouth full of her pussy, and Twyla knew there was nothing to be said.
Then he slipped two of his thick fingers inside of her as he flicked his tongue against her clit and words came to her quickly.
"Holy fuck!" she squeaked. She wanted to yell, and scream, and cuss loud enough that the folks in the cabin down the mountain would hear her, but that wasn't feasible. They were doing a bad thing and no one could know about it.
The finger-tongue combo was all it took for Twyla to reach her climax.
Arturo curled his fingers and tapped them against that perfect spot as he sucked on her clit like a piece of sour candy and she exploded into his mouth.
She gasped out her release to keep from screaming and pulled at his hair to supplement her inability to be as vocal as she wanted to be.
He didn't seem to mind, leisurely reducing the speed of his licks until he finally pulled away and stood up.
Instead of dropping her leg to the ground, he hooked her thigh over his hip and stared at her.
Twyla's chest heaved as the aftershocks of her orgasm continued to wash over her.
She observed his face with a sick sort of pleasure, simultaneously loving and hating how glazed he looked after being between her legs.
"Arturo," she murmured, letting her hands fall from his hair to cup his face. When his eyes closed and his face relaxed into the picture of serenity, Twyla's heart skipped a beat. She needed him in the worst way.
The moment that thought crossed her mind, his brow creased and she wondered for a moment if she'd said it aloud. His eyes opened and when they met hers, she saw fire there that reflected the heat inside of her. Her pussy was still grasping for purchase and yet…
Eyes on hers, Arturo reached a hand between them and moments later, she felt the head of his dick press against her dripping slit.
He didn't move further, didn't say a word.
If he was waiting for something, Twyla wasn't sure.
What she did know was she felt a desperation unlike anything she'd ever experienced before.
"Twyla," he said, his voice strained. "Tell. Me. To. Stop."
Without a doubt, he was pleading with her.
Maybe he did need her permission to stop this.
Maybe he could only do what she allowed him to.
Or maybe he felt as desperate as she did and he wanted her to stop him so that he didn't feel guilty about pressing forward.
And speaking of pressing forward, Twyla pulled his face to hers, smashing their lips together in a frantic kiss.
Their tongues touched and it was as if a switch was activated for the both of them.
He rolled his hips forward, breaching her with his hardened erection.
Her jaw slackened, head fell back against the tree, and she moaned deep from in her belly.
His lips landed on her neck once again and he peppered a trail up the column, kissing along her jaw, across her cheek until he covered her mouth with his own.
And when he bent his knees to grab her other leg, lifting her off of the ground and into his arms, he swallowed her answering gasp at the difference in depth.
She was too far gone to even be nervous about being lifted into the air.
Her only thoughts were of Arturo and the feel of him inside of her.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding on for dear life as they kissed and he fucked her against the tree.
Each stroke soothed an ache inside of her, reminding her that she'd had something good to call her own for a brief moment in time.
Reminding her that this thing with this man once had the potential to be something great.
Assuring her that she hadn't lost her mind. Hadn't made it all up.
None of this was fair.
{Mas?}