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My lips, tender and cautious, began to tease her. I could hear her breath quicken as I almost touched the apex between her legs and the gasp when I moved to the other thigh. After repeating that twice, I paused for a moment, hovering over her pretty pink pussy, and glanced at her. The intensity I saw reflected back at me made my heart race.
I took a moment to really look at her, trying to imprint every inch of her form into my mind.
“Stop with the staring and start with the action,” she said, her tone commanding.
I raised an eyebrow, taken aback by her sudden forwardness. “Getting cheeky, are we? What happened to my reserved girl?”
Her lips curled into a knowing smirk. Both of us were aware that she was never truly shy—she simply chose her moments. Sephie always waited for the perfect opportunity to voice her desires. And right now, she wanted . . .
I leaned closer, my voice a husky whisper. “And what is it that you desire tonight?”
She hesitated for just a heartbeat before meeting my eyes. “Your mouth,” she confessed, “I want to feel your lips, your tongue, and your fingers. Fuck me with them, make me come hard. And after? You choose how you want to come.”
My attention shifted briefly to where her gaze landed, and I wondered if she could see I was hard like granite because of her.
“I must admit, I’m starting to adore this bolder side of you,” I said with a smirk.
Seraphina licked her lips, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper. “I might still have a lot to learn, but I’m open to exploring . . . everything. Even getting to taste you.”
My dick was ready to fuck her little mouth, but I needed to take this slow—enjoy her.
Tentatively, my fingers brushed against her inner thigh, and the tremor that passed through her body at my touch was intoxicating. I finally moved closer, pressing my mouth to her glistening pussy. She was so fucking wet and soft. I cupped her ass with one hand and flattened my tongue against her clit, tracing a line from there all the way to her entrance, tasting all of her.
“More,” she whimpered as I stared at her, trying to calm the urge to just thrust my cock inside her. I was hungry, needy . . . possessed by the most beautiful woman in the world.
I had to remind myself that this is what I wanted, for me to eat her and make her come hard. I fucked her with my tongue and nibbled her clit with my teeth while thrusting two fingers inside her, crooking them to find her G-spot. I worked her hard, fast.
Her taste, those moaning sounds, everything made me so fucking hard I was about to explode. I needed release, but I gave it all to her until she began to cry, and her cunt clenched around my fingers, milking them. I could only think of what it’d feel like when it was me, my cock fucking her hard.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Seraphina
(Then)
I let out a moan that echoed throughout the room, deep and guttural. My fingers dug into the cushion beneath me, every nerve in my body electric and alive. As he plunged his fingers deeper, I felt the overwhelming wave of pleasure cresting. His mouth settled on my clit again, his tongue flat and insistent, carrying me through the intensity of the moment.
Pulling back slightly, his eyes smoldering, he murmured, “You taste so fucking good, baby.” He rose, positioning himself above me, his silhouette dominating. “So fucking good.”
With a swift movement, I yanked him by the collar of his shirt, pulling our lips together in a fierce kiss. The taste of myself on his tongue was intoxicating. Overwhelmed by the heat of the moment, I drew him nearer, my legs winding around his waist as I pressed myself against the undeniable hardness between his legs. Every inch of my body screamed for him. I wanted him deep inside me.
Our lips parted briefly, our heavy breaths mingling. My eyes locked onto his. “Brahms,” I whispered huskily. “Fuck me.”
He inhaled sharply, the sound ragged and filled with desire. Those intense blue eyes bore into me, filled with a hunger that mirrored my own. “Please,” I pleaded, my voice trembling with urgency.
His gaze seemed to strip away any remaining barriers between us. I was laid bare, vulnerable, and hungry. “I want it all, not just your hands and mouth, B,” I murmured, my voice dripping with lust. “I want every fucking inch of you, all to myself.”
Brahms began to slowly unbutton his shirt, the deliberate pace only heightening the anticipation. I watched, entranced, as his fingers worked methodically, drawing out each moment. The sight of him gradually undressing, the deliberate nature of each movement, sent shivers of anticipation down my spine. My breathing grew shallow, each exhale heavy with need.
Finally discarding the shirt, he moved on to his belt. The soft sound of the leather slipping through loops was almost drowned out by the pounding of my heart in my ears. My eyes followed every motion, from the unbuckling of the belt to the slow lowering of his zipper, the fabric of his trousers slipping down to reveal toned thighs.
I could feel the heat rising in my face, the space between us charged with raw energy. Each second that passed with him baring himself to me felt like an eternity. The air grew thick with tension and desire, my own desire growing more potent as I took in the sight of him.
My eyes wandered up to his biceps, which bulged slightly, their shape perfectly defined. The play of light and shadow accentuated every ripple and curve, making me ache to reach out and trace them with my fingertips. I could almost feel the firmness beneath my touch, imagining the sensation of his skin against mine.
But it wasn’t just his arms that held my captive attention. As he discarded his shirt, the sculpted landscape of his torso was unveiled. His chest was broad and chiseled, each pectoral muscle distinct, leading down to a set of abs that seemed to have been carved from stone. The valleys and rises of his abdominal muscles created a mesmerizing pattern, drawing my eyes down to the V-line that disappeared beneath the waistband of his trousers. The definition was impeccable, each muscle standing out, making it evident that he took care of his body with an almost religious fervor.
The faintest sheen of sweat glistened on his skin, making him look even more irresistible, if that was possible. The sight of Brahms standing before me with such raw masculinity was both breathtaking and overwhelming. The anticipation of feeling every inch of that toned body pressed against mine sent another wave of desire coursing through me.
