"That's a much better reason," she says, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I have several. I'm just leading with the one that won't get me slapped."
That earns the laugh I was hoping for, bright and real, and I use the sound of it as my excuse to close the last of the distance between us, my hand finding her jaw, tilting her face up to mine.
"Tell me to stop," I say, "and I will. Right now, or any point after this. I mean that."
"Don't stop," she breathes, and that's all I need.
I kiss her, carefully, giving her room to lead if she wants it, and she does. Her hands find my shirt, fisting in the fabric like she needs something to hold onto. When she opens for me, soft and certain, something in my chest comes loose that's been wound tight since I watched her disappear down that hallway hours ago.
"Volody," she says against my mouth, my name sounding different in her voice than it ever has in anyone else's.
"Right here. Tell me what you want."
"I don't entirely know."
That admission nearly undoes me right there. I drop to my knees in front of her instead, taking the question out of her hands entirely, and look up at her face while my fingers find the hidden zip at the side of her dress.
"Then let me." I press a kiss to her hip through the fabric, watch her breath catch. "I'll tell you everything I'm about to do before I do it. You stop me whenever you want. Deal?"
"Deal," she whispers, and I feel her hand land lightly in my hair, like she's not sure she's allowed to touch me.
I ease the zip down slowly, watch the dress loosen and slip down her arms. Watch her step out of it with shaking hands until she's standing in front of me in nothing but the underwear she had on underneath, red hair falling loose around her shoulders, every inch of her lit gold by the city outside the window.
"You're staring," she says, echoing mt line from earlier, and the answering laugh that breaks out of me is helpless, full-bodied, surprised right out of me.
"I'm observing," I say. "It's a skill I'm very good at."
"What are you observing?" she asks, stroking a fingertip down my jaw, her eyes dropping to my mouth as she licks her lips.
"That you might be the most beautiful thing I've ever had in this apartment, and that's including the view." I stand, pull her in by the waist, kiss the laugh right off her mouth before it can turn nervous on her again. My hands trace her, learn the shape of her waist, the dip of her spine, the way she shivers when my fingers trail along her ribs.
"I want to touch you," I tell her, lips against her throat. "Everywhere. Slowly. I want you to feel every single thing I'm thinking about you tonight."
"Okay," she breathes, fingers tightening in my shirt.
I lift her into my arms and carry her through to my bedroom where I lay her back against the sheets like she's something rare. I kiss my way down her body unhurried, telling her exactly what I'm about to do before every step the way I promised, watching her arch and gasp and lose the careful control she's been holding onto all night.
I settle between her thighs like a man finding religion. Her legs are trembling, but she doesn’t close them. She lets me look. Fuck, she lets me see everything.
Her pussy is the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. Pink and slick with a thatch of red hair crowning her, glistening in the low light from the city. Untouched. The portfolio said it, and everything about her confirms it. No one has ever put their mouth here. No one has ever tasted what I’m about to taste. The thought makes something savage and possessive roar in my chest.Mine.This perfect, untouched pussy is mine now. No other man will ever know what she sounds like when she comes on a tongue. What she tastes like. What it feels like when her tight little hole flutters and gushes for someone.
My cock is rock hard in my trousers, straining against the zipper, leaking steadily into my boxers, but I don’t give it a second thought. This isn’t about me getting off. This is about her. About showing her that her body is a fucking temple and I’m on my knees to worship at it. To honor it. To claim it in the most intimate way possible.
I look up at her face. Her cheeks are flushed, lips parted, eyes dark and wide as she watches me. She’s nervous. I can see it in the way her fingers twist in the sheets. But she’s not pullingaway. She’s letting me have this. After everything tonight she’s still choosing to spread her legs for me and let me see her like this. The trust in that nearly undoes me.
“I’m going to taste you now, Alivia,” I tell her, using her full name because it feels right, reverent. “I’m going to put my tongue inside this sweet pussy and lick you until you come. I want you to feel worshipped. Because that’s what this is. I’m on my knees for you, Liv. You stop me if it’s too much.”
She makes a small sound, and her hips lift the tiniest bit toward my mouth.
I don’t make her wait.
I lean in and run the flat of my tongue from her entrance to her clit in one slow, thorough stroke. The flavor of her explodes across my tongue. She’s sweet and salty and musky and so fuckingher. I groan against her, the sound vibrating straight through her slick flesh, and she gasps like I’ve shocked her.
“Fuck, Liv,” I mutter against her dripping cunt. “You taste like everything I didn’t know I needed. Like I could live right here and never want for another thing.”
I do it again. Long, lazy licks that cover every inch of her pretty pussy. I avoid her clit at first, teasing around it, lapping at her folds, dipping the tip of my tongue just inside her entrance to taste her from the source. She’s getting wetter by the second. Her arousal coats my tongue, my chin, my lips. I love it. I want to be drenched in her. I want her scent on me for days.
