I licked a broad, wet stripe up the center of her already soaking panties. Then I hummed again, a deep, guttural growl that resonated in my throat.
Grrrr-ummmph.
The effect was instantaneous. The combination of the heat, the wet tongue, and the sonic vibration caused her to shake apart.
"Daniel!" she screamed, her voice breaking. "It’s too loud! It’s vibrating!"
"Let it," I said against her, sliding my tongue under the elastic of her panties, nudging the fabric aside. "Let it shake you apart, Tessa. I’m right here."
I found her flesh.
She tasted like salt and iron and sweet, wild fruit. It was the taste of the girl who had haunted me for years, condensed into a single drop of nectar.
I groaned, the sound purely involuntary, a primal reaction to the taste of her. The vibration of that groan against her bare clit made her shriek.
"Please!" she begged, her legs clamping around my head, trapping me there. "More. Talk to me. Just talk!"
She wanted noise. She wanted to drown out the memory of the laughing crowd.
I gave her a symphony.
I worked my tongue in a relentless rhythm, swirling around the hood, flicking the sensitive peak, all while keeping a steady stream of low, vibrating praise flowing from my throat.
"That's it," I rumbled, my lips moving against her slick skin. "So sweet. You taste like a masterpiece, Tessa. You taste like power."
I felt her internal muscles clenching; the cramps transforming from pain into the jagged edge of an orgasm.
"I can't," she whimpered, tossing her head on the pillow. "It's too much. I'm afraid."
"I know," I said, pausing to press a firm kiss to her center. "I know you're afraid. But I'm not in the choir anymore, sweetheart. I'm not quiet. I'm right here. Listen to me."
I went harder.
I sucked her into my mouth, creating a seal, and hummed a rising tone, pitch-gliding from a low growl to a resonant shout directly against her pleasure center.
"You are so good," I praised, the words vibrating her entire pelvis. "You’re perfect. Safe. Come for me, Tessa. Come on my mouth."
She shattered.
It wasn't a slow build. It was a structural failure. She screamed, a raw, torn sound that echoed off the glass walls. Her thighs crushed my ears, her hips grinding explicitly against my face.
She convulsed, violent waves of release rolling through her, drowning out the pain of the cramps, drowning out the storm, drowning out the past.
I didn't stop. I kept the vibration going, holding the low note against her, anchoring her through the crash. I drank her cries, her release. I marked her with my voice and my scent, and my taste.
Slowly, the tremors faded. Her legs loosened, flopping onto the mattress. Her breathing was a ragged, wet sound in the quiet room.
I stayed there for a beat longer, pressing one last kiss, soft, reverent, to her swollen, sensitive flesh.
Then I pulled back.
I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, breathing hard. The scent of warm spiced chai and fresh bread radiating off me was now spiked with salt and honey.
I looked up.
Tessa was staring at the ceiling, tears tracking silently into her hair. Her chest was heaving. Her hand drifted down, hovering over where I had just been, as if checking to see if it was real.
She looked at me. Her grey eyes were blown wide, stripped of defenses.
