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I stilled, but he didn’t let up, and I shuttered a breath, torn between his words and his fingers on my cunt.
“Tell me the truth, why you were so freaked out.” He lowered his mouth to my pussy.
I closed my eyes, closing him off, not answering.
“Tell me, baby,” his tongue rasped through my lips, “tell me and I’ll let you come again.”
“You said,” I tried to speak, though my words came out breathless, “I’d already earned four orgasms.”
“True,” He nipped one of my pussy lips, pulling on it softly. Then his tongue snaked out, stroking over it. The man played with my cunt the way most men ate their food, like he was savoring the taste. “But I never said you wouldn’t have to do anything else to earn them.”
“You’re such,” I exhaled a breath as his tongue swiped over my clit, “a cheater.”
“Tell me,” he growled, his fingers crooking up inside me again, tap, tap, taping.
“Ahhh!” I clenched my fingers through his hair to make him press harder. I wanted to yeet him up and over me, then slide myself down on his big cock. “Coulter.”
He stroked, filling me, playing with my clit until my whole body tensed.
Then he pulled out and climbed up my body, laying on top of me, his face inches from mine.
I whimpered, squirming, so fucking needy. This wasn’t fair! I wrapped my legs around him, rocking my hips, trying to come again.
He chuckled, then, grabbing my cheeks, he kissed me. Slowly, his tongue thrusting in my mouth, exploring me.
“Tell me, baby. Tell me and I’ll let you come.” His fingers caressed my skin, so sweetly, but I didn’t want sweet. I wanted to fucking come!
I growled, nipping at his mouth, and he pulled back, splaying a grin that finally reached his eyes. “You frustrated, little nightmare?”
“Yes.” I nodded, then rolled my hips and clutched my tits, enticing him. His eyes roamed my body lazily, his hand reaching down. He slipped his fingers through my slit, stroking, stroking.
“Yes,” I hissed, fucking relieved.
“You wanna come, baby?” He kissed me, playing with my cunt.
God, the man knew how to touch me.
“Yes, please.”
“How badly do you want to come?”
“Please, sir.” I skipped the step where he asked me to beg. “Please make me come.”
“I just need a few words, and I’ll let you.” He pulled back and, jerking my legs open, he slapped my pussy.
I lurched, my eyes widening, my chest bucking outward as he stared down at me with those golden, predator eyes. He slapped it again then shoved his fingers up inside me, pumping so harshly that a vicious wave of arousal shot through me. “At least tell me why you don’t want to tell me.”
Tears sparked in my eyes, my emotions exploding under his touch.
I felt everything in that moment, all the experiences of my past shooting through my mind, my words bursting from me. “Panic attacks, okay? I get panic attacks.”
Just as I said the words, the pressure between my legs shattered, and I came, screaming, tears draining down my cheeks at the same time. Pulling his fingers out, he pulled me close and tucked my body into his, his eyes filled with such concern. He pressed kisses to my cheeks, kissing away my tears. I wrapped my arms around him, tucking my head into the crook of his neck, the tears still flowing.
God, I hated feeling like this. Hated my angst, hating being vulnerable.
“Shhh,” he soothed, “it’s okay, Aster. You’re safe with me.”
He held me as I cried. Not big sobs, but I let my emotions go, draining down my cheeks in big, fat, salty tears as he comforted me, caressing me with his fingers.
