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“But I want it now,” I tell him, wide-eyed and trembling. If he won’t put his hands on me again – won’t kiss me again – right now, I don’t know if I can take it.
“Don’t worry, Carina,” he says, his voice gliding luxuriously over my name again, like it’s a delicious treat. “Tonight, I can still give you something. A little taste.”
My heart thuds in my chest, faster and faster. What does he mean by that? A taste? Does he expect me to…?
He guides me back over to the bed and lays me down, just as I was before. I watch him with an insatiable wonder about what comes next, what he expects of me. But before I can ask his mouth is covering mine, devouring me hungrily once more, and my worries begin to fade away. I want this so much. Surely, he won’t stop just at kissing. Surely, he must know how torturous that is.
His hands drift down over me, over my shoulders and arms, then to clasp my waist. My eyes fly open at the touch, but I see his still closed, his brow smooth and his expression completely different from how he normally looks. Peaceful, almost, despite the need that runs like a current through both of us. I let my eyes slide closed, giving in to that feeling, letting my body turn to jelly under him.
When his hands travel down over my hips, then slide around to the front of my jeans, I can’t help but gasp in surprise. But, didn’t he say…? With his lips eating any words I might have been able to say, I can only give in to trusting him, letting him do what he will. He said he will give me a taste. I have to wait and find out what that means.
He lifts my hips without breaking contact, and slowly slides my jeans down my legs, letting cool air touch my skin. Excitement flutters in my veins, warring with nerves and trepidation. Will he think my body is ugly? That I’m too big? But even those thoughts drift away as I feel his fingers return, hooking into the waistband of my panties.
And, oh God, he’s taking them off.
The kiss finally breaks as Tommy looks down, down at me, as he pulls the panties away and down my legs, leaving me exposed. I blush and squirm. No one has ever seen me this naked, especially not up close like this, where he can actually look. My embarrassment intensifies as Tommy slides lower on the bed, leaning his face down toward me, as if he’s going in for a closer look – what is he doing? Examining me to see if I’m suitable?
But something else happens, something so quick I don’t know how to interpret it except as a burst of stars inside my head, and then I realize, he’s touching me, and not just with his fingers, but… with his tongue.
The surface of his tongue is rough and wet and warm against my skin, my most sensitive skin, and I can’t decide whether I’m blushing and wriggling because I’m so embarrassed or because it feels so good. I clench my hand in the sheets next to me, the other covering my mouth, fighting the twin urges to push him away and to hold him closer.
His tongue laps persistently up and down, at first slow, then gradually faster. I hear myself moaning as if from far away – I had no idea I would make such sound – as the sensation intensifies. I’m hyperaware of every touch, stars filling my veins and bursting from every place his tongue touches, driving me wild. I never want it to stop. I want his tongue to touch all of me, every part of me, every moment, always giving me this same feeling.
He shifts and the licking stops for just a moment, making me want to scream in protest. But before I can even open my mouth, he returns, his tongue lapping high up and his finger touching somewhere else.
His finger…
Tommy seems to be experimenting, at least as far as I can tell, or maybe showing me all the many possibilities that exist. His fingers and tongue perform different motions, making me groan, gasp, and buck my hips up uncontrollably, and when his tongue lashes deep inside me and his finger strokes that bundle of nerves that makes me lose control, I find myself gripping handfuls of the sheets on either side of me and clutching hard. I don’t even recognize the noises I’m making as they come out of me, and I feel a great pressure building up inside, a sweet and heavy pressure that I want to build and build and build. And it does under his tongue and his hands, the pleasure rising, filling up all parts of me, until it feels like I will explode.
