Her hands tremble slightly as she tugs at the hem of her sweater, but I stop her, covering her fingers with mine.
“Let me.” I pull it up slowly, savoring the reveal: the smooth plane of her stomach, the lace edge of her bra peeking out—black, delicate, the kind that makes my mouth water.
She lifts her arms, and I slide it over her head, tossing it aside. Her hair tumbles back down, wild and tousled, and I can’t resist burying my face in it, inhaling the scent of her shampoo—roses, mixed with something uniquely Norah.
She’s breathing hard now, her chest rising and falling, and I trace the line of her collarbone with my lips, down to the swell of her breasts. The bra is a front-clasp, thank god, and I flick it open with one hand, the lace falling away to expose her.
Her nipples are already peaked, pink, and begging for attention, and I don’t make her wait. I take one into my mouth, sucking gently at first, then harder, my tongue swirling around the tight bud.
Norah arches into me, her nails scraping down my back now.
“Oh—Dorian, yes,” she pants, her voice breaking on my name. She’s touching me everywhere—palms flat against my chest, thumbs brushing my nipples, nails raking over my abs.
I’m rock hard, aching for her, but I want this to be about her first. I want to make her come undone before I lose myself.
I guide her down onto the bed, the quilt soft and worn beneath us, warm from the fire. She kicks off her boots, and I help her with her skirt and tights, sliding them down her legs.
I take my time, kissing the inside of her knee, then her calf, her ankle. Underneath, she’s in matching black lace panties, already damp at the center. The sight of her like this—spread out on the bed, firelight gilding her skin—nearly undoes me.
I hook my fingers into the waistband of her panties and tug them down, exposing her completely. She’s bare for me, her pussy glistening, folds pink and swollen with need.
“Fuck, Norah,” I breathe, settling between her legs. “You’re perfect.”
Before she can respond, I lean in and lick her, long and slow, from her entrance to her clit. She tastes like salt and sweetness, like everything I’ve been craving. Her hips buck, a cry escaping her lips, and I do it again, flattening my tongue against her core.
My hands grip her thighs, holding her open as I devour her, sucking her clit into my mouth and flicking it with the tip of my tongue.
Norah’s fingers thread through my hair, pulling hard, her nails scraping my scalp in a way that makes my cock throb.
“Oh fuck, don’t stop,” she moans, her voice high and desperate.
I won’t.
I can’t.
I lap at her relentlessly, circling her clit, dipping inside her to taste how wet she’s getting. She’s dripping now, coating my chin, and I love it—the mess of her, the way she’s falling apart under my mouth.
I slide one finger into her, then two, curling them against that spot that drives her crazy. She clenches around me, her thighs trembling against my shoulders.
“Come for me, sweetheart,” I murmur against her skin, the vibration making her whimper. I suck harder, pumping my fingers faster, and she shatters, her back bowing off the bed, a keening cry tearing from her throat.
Her pussy pulses around my fingers, soaking them, and I keep going, drawing out every wave until she’s gasping.
I pull back, licking my lips, and crawl up her body. She’s flushed, but she reaches for me, dragging her nails down my chest again, over my ribs, leaving marks that I’ll feel tomorrow.
“Your turn,” she says, voice husky, but I shake my head.
“Not yet.”
I kiss her, letting her taste herself on my tongue, and she moans into it. My hand drifts back down, fingers circling her clit lazily as she recovers. She’s still slick, still sensitive, but I need to talk to her before we go further.
“Norah,” I say, pulling back just enough to meet her eyes. My fingers slide lower, teasing her entrance. “Are you on birth control? I mean, with everything... your heat, my... situation.”
I don’t say knot, not yet, but we both know what I mean. It’s been years since that first time, but the memory hangs between us.
We’ve had several hookups since then, but they’re always rushed, and I never get to knot her. But I also know it might trigger her into heat.
Neither of us can handle that, not when she has to be back to work tomorrow morning. I’m surprised her aunt is even allowing her to be out so late.
