Chapter 10 Emily #2
I tug her shirt over her head roughly, and the sunglasses she had pushed back into her hair go flying.
I don’t have time to care though, because a vision I’ve been dreaming of for far longer than I care to admit sits in front of me.
Alice, messy and perfect and half undressed, barely-there freckles dancing along her skin and pale pink nipples hard and waiting for me.
I’m on my knees in front of her, my height places my mouth directly in line with her tits, which I take full advantage of.
I immediately pull one of her nipples into my mouth, rolling on the bud as I press a hand into the small of her back, forcing her to arch harder for me.
The sounds of pleasure coming from her suddenly become muffled, and I glance up to see her covering her own mouth. Which obviously will not do.
I snatch her hand away with my free one, placing it on her own tit and squeezing. My hand is so much bigger than hers, it covers hers and her breast completely.
“Who are you being quiet for?” I ask, flicking her fully hard nipple with my tongue as she stares at me, mouth agape. “No one can hear you out here except me. And I want to hear you.”
I don’t wait for her to respond. I’m too consumed by the taste of her skin, the feeling of her delicate body leaning into mine, chasing her own pleasure.
When I shift to give equal treatment to her other breast, she automatically switches hands, rolling the nipple I just had in my mouth between her fingers.
I’d praise her for it if my mouth wasn’t so preoccupied.
As beautiful as she looks like this, I know what both of us really need.
I work on unbuttoning the fly of her shorts, the cotton thin and too loose on her frame, and keep my eyes on hers the whole time.
There’s a small bit of hesitation there, which is expected, especially if this is her first time.
It hits me all of a sudden that I am the first person to see her like this.
Depending on how the next few weeks go, I may be the only person to ever see her like this.
She is totally and completely mine. No matter how much we lie to each other, manipulate and avoid and obscure, that will always be true.
She doesn’t stop me as I drag her shorts down and over her shoes, dropping them in the captain’s chair beside me. Her plain cotton underwear are wet from her first orgasm and all the arousal of my mouth on her body.
“Anything you want to say?” I ask, my fingertips sliding under the elastic hem stretched across her ass.
That flash of defiance comes rearing back, and she lifts her own hips, sliding her underwear to the ground and forcing me backward on to my ass while she does it.
She doesn’t open her legs back up—I don’t think she’s quite that brave yet—but she leans back on her hands smugly and tilts her chin up at me.
“Don’t stop,” she replies with a smile.
Thank god.
I slide my hands under her thighs and pull them apart, so fucking hungry for her it feels like I’m starved.
I want to go slow, to take my time and tease her and make her beg, but I’ve decided that this will not be the last time I get to touch her, if I have anything to say about it.
I’ll monopolize every second of the next five weeks of our time together to teach her to beg for what she wants, to pull her apart molecule by molecule and find all the touches and kisses that make her fall apart for me.
Trailing open-mouthed kisses up the inside of her legs, I inch closer and closer to her exposed pussy.
She tried to arch toward me, to close her thighs in the face of all that tension, but I don’t allow her to control this.
Instead I take my time, skimming over the soft indents in her waistline where her clothes bit into her skin as I reach the apex of her thighs.
Keeping her spread wide for me with my hands on her knees.
It doesn’t take her long to start begging, whining my name, asking so sweetly for something she can’t yet name. I’m already obsessed with the sound, with how easily her brattiness is tamed when she really wants what I can give her.
Finally, when I’ve traced each leg from hip to ankle with my mouth, I give her what she’s begging for. What I’m begging for, too.
I drag my tongue from entrance to clit, savoring the taste of her, and the sound she makes when my mouth is finally on her.
“Fuck, Emily, oh my god,” she breathes, her thighs instinctively drawing together around my head until I push them back open, forcing her to experience this pleasure at it’s most raw.
“I know, Pecas,” I placate, gently drawing circles around her clit with the hand not holding her thigh open. “So good for me.”
She whines as her hips buck forward, and I tuck her reaction to praise in my pocket for later as I resume eating her, sucking on her clit and letting her find a pace she enjoys as she rides my face.
I hate that it’s never been like this before. I hate that every moment of her pleasure and mine is built on lies and manipulation. But even more, I hate that I can’t stop myself from swinging her thigh over my shoulder and reaching down to unbutton my own pants.
“Are you…” she stutters, the words choked off as I flatten my tongue directly on her clit for a moment. “Christ, are you touching yourself while you’re…damn it, I don’t know the term in English.”
We both laugh, the sensation oddly perfect among all this tension and lust, and I slide my fingers against my own clit as I pull away from hers.
“The Americans call it eating out,” I chuckle, and she shakes with her own laugh before I return to my work.
The build is a bit slower, but it somehow feels more connected, with my pleasure ratcheting up alongside hers.
She doesn't hide her noises now, releasing gasps and sighs and whines that leave me rocking my clit against the heel of my palm with two fingers inside me.
I grip her thigh over my shoulder for balance and move both of us to the rhythm she sets as she grinds against my face.
I can’t wait to give her more. To see her take my fingers, to watch her grind against me while she's under my body, to witness her take toys until she's come in every manner I can think of. But right now, watching her fall apart from the feeling of my mouth against her…I’ll never get over this.
“Emily,” she cries, her hips grinding down harder against my face.
I want to tell her I’m close too, but I’d rather die than move my mouth from where it is right now, so I squeeze her leg and increase the pressure on both our clits.
Her movements become hurried and uneven, and I feel myself fall the moment before she does.
Coming with her, feeling her body break while it’s connected with mine, is indescribable. I groan into her skin as she rides out her pleasure on my face, drawing my orgasm out longer than I would alone, so desperate for the moment not to end.
Finally, we’re both spent. Alice leans all the way back against the console, her arms at odd angles to avoid the controls.
I stand up and rebutton my pants, wiping the evidence of Alice’s orgasm off my mouth with the back of my hand.
She watches like she can’t believe what she’s seeing as I lick it clean, not wasting a drop of what she gave me.
She’s nearly naked, save for her socks and tennis shoes. Her skin is turning pink under the glaring sun, either from its rays of the glow of her pleasure. But she looks over her shoulder, and the first thing she says to me…
“The whales are gone.”