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I put my hands on both sides of his face, looked into his eyes, and said, “I need you inside meright now.”
Delight danced in his sapphire eyes.
I could tell he wanted to lengthen the foreplay—this performance. I could see the wicked designs lining up like dominos behind his eyes; an intricate array of planned pleasure.
“Now,” I whispered.
Sam pressed his finger to my lips. “Patience, my Graceling.”
I licked his finger.
He traced my lower lip with a feather-light touch.
I let out another whimper. I had no ideathatwas so sensitive…
Sam grinned, then leaned toward the bedside table.
His weight shifted as he sifted through the drawer. When he returned, a golden square winked at me in the moonlight.
I snatched the condom from his grasp, tore it open, and rolled it onto his length.
Once it was all the way on, he smirked like he had an evil idea. Before I could wonder what it was, he parted my knees, dove down and buried his face between my legs.
My eyes rolled back and I moaned uncontrollably as his tongue slipped between my folds.
Sam slid his tongue up and down my slit deliberately; controlled.
I longed for him to press his tongue ring against my clit. If I was honest with myself, I’d been wanting it from the second I saw the flash of silver hiding behind his smile at The Figure Eight.
As if reading my mind, Sam began to swirl his tongue in slow, deliberate figure eights.
I moaned and whimpered against him, feeling pressure build in my low belly.
Everything about this turned me on: the smell of sweat and sex, the wet sounds as he licked and suckled my folds, the rough abrasion of his stubble against my sensitive inner thighs…
But what turned me on most of all was knowing the best was yet to come.
Sam slowly dipped his tongue through my folds, then finally pressed the firm tip against my clit.
“OH!” I cried, arching my back in shock.
Sam grabbed my thighs and pinned me down so I couldn’t escape. Then he wound his tongue around my button in vicious, tight little circles, sending shockwave after shockwave through my system.
My body went limp and all I could do was whimper and beg. I was putty in his hands.
He tightened his grip on my thighs—I could see his fingers pressing into my supple flesh.
He wanted me, bad.
I bit my lip.
I ran my fingers through his soft, dark hair and squeezed.
My other hand clawed the sheet as I moaned, my body obeying his wicked tongue.
Everything about me was an animal; there was no room to feel anything else but the tension building inside.
The quivering pressure tightened, then erupted with stars and fireworks as pure ecstasy surged through my veins.
