His jaw ticked, clenching as he processed my request.
Slowly, he lowered himself to one knee, then the other, his neatly starched trousers and shiny dress shoes looking extra nice, scuffing the floor. He sat back on his heels, slowly rolling his shirtsleeves to his elbows, already anticipating my next request.
“You’re a bit far for a taste, Silas.” I pointed to the floor before me. “Come,” I demanded.
He inched toward me, leaning on one hand touching the ground, then the other, forced to ignore each drop of blood as he crawled forward, though his eyes didn’t leave mine as I watched his fill with inky blackness.
When he nearly reached me, I lifted my leg up, resting it on his shoulder. The stream of blood trickled down my calf. He watched it get closer. Before it could even grace his tongue, I pushed down on his shoulder, forcing his chest to the floor.
“If you are so desperate for a taste, you should accept it however it comes,” I hummed, letting the blood drip onto the floor next to his face.
At first, he didn’t move, just processing the position he was in.
“Will you waste it?” I prompted, pressing my heel harder into his shoulder. He shot me a look from the corner of hiseye, then he slowly dragged his tongue over the tile, blood smearing in its wake. His eyes closed, accompanied by a groan... a whimper, if you will.
“Good boy,” I whispered, and that is when he grabbed my ankle. “Let go!”
“That’s enough. My turn,” he bit out, standing on his knees and throwing my leg over his shoulder. His hands smoothed up my thigh as he placed his chin on my pelvis and looked up at me. A wicked gleam lit his eyes. “Lift your gown for me, dear.”
With shaky hands, I gripped the gown, pulling it up and bunching it at my sternum. He held my hip as he supported my leg, kissing over my pelvic bone before going lower, leaving a warm trail of his lips over my stomach, then a kiss on my thigh. He placed my clitoris between his teeth and sucked gently, flicking his tongue over it as he savored me.
I moaned gently, slanting my hips forward, a plea for more.
His tongue flattened over the skin between my thighs. There was no doubt I was wet on my own without the help of his tongue.
Why was he pausing?
“You made quite a mess,” he said, as if scolding me, and glanced up at me through his lashes, “and you’ve made me quite impatient. We have to fix that.”
“What happened to—” I jolted when his tongue laved between my legs, small, wet sounds making my face unbearably hot.
One of his hands smoothed up my thigh, and his tongue pressed past the slick opening of my vagina, dipping in and out. The smudges of blood were just within reach now, his breath tickling as he exhaled. A clicking followed.
I leaned more of my weight on the window, the frost from outside countering how hot my body was. I tipped my head back, resting against the cold glass. I was hot despite the weather, but the cool air coming from the window helped the heat subside.
His nails dug into my hips as he licked and sucked at the fresh morning blood. I could feel his eyes on me, his hyper awareness of everything I did, every sound I made, every time my body twitched under his touch.
His tongue dipped in and out, taking time to give attention to my clit, the entire area becoming wet from blood and spit, his split tongue twisting and playing in the ways he remembered would get a reaction out of me.
I couldn’t make myself look. I clenched my eyes shut, my grip white-knuckled on my gown, but it did little to distract me from what he was doing.
“S-stop... stop it,” I breathed, but it only made his mouth press firmer against the warm source.
He slicked his tongue inside. The feeling made me jump, as I had forgotten he had a tongue like some snake. He used the two split ends of his tongue to press against the inner walls as he moved in and out, going deeper every time.
“Deeper,” I begged, throwing my head back, my hips pushing needily against his mouth.
He responded with a sort of growl, reaching deeper inside me and pushing his tongue up, then he would make it move in a gentle rhythm, faster and rougher as he worked up to it. His hand on my thigh slid up to my abdomen, pressing down, the pressure more intense than before.
“Ah—!” I yelped, blood rushing to my cheeks. I wanted to say something, but I could not find the will or the words, and I settled on closing my eyes as I was absorbed in the quickly approaching tension, the slow throbbing becoming quicker and quicker until I had my release. My abdomen tensed, and my insides throbbed like they were trying to spell something in Morse code.
Silas removed his tongue and flattened it along the outside, relishing in the afterglow. Little did he know, I was not finished yet.
My leg slipped off his shoulder, and I forced him back, lowering myself onto his lap and hastily grabbing at his trousers.
“I need it inside me, now,” I panted.
He did not argue, but my demand made him move quicker to open his pants.
