I hold back a chuckle. “BAGBALTPUICOYF.”
He takes a second, but doesn’t figure it out. “What does that mean?”
I smile, then run my hand over his lips. “Be a good boy and—”
“Lick that pussy until I come on your face,” he fills in the gap as his laughter fills the woods. “Now, how can I refuse that?” He turns me around on his shoulders until my pussy is directly in his face, my legs wrapping his shoulders, and his hands slide under my ass to support me.
“Raise your hands and grab that branch,” he orders, and I follow in a heartbeat. “If you let go, I stop. Understood?”
I nod, wrapping my fingers around the rough bark. For a few heartbeats, he leaves me suspended, my feet dangling above the ground as he hooks his fingers into my pants and peels them off, along with my panties.
Ares cocks his head back to look at me, smiling, as I once again have him off-script, messing with any other plan he might have had with me. He approaches me just enough that I feel the brush of his breath between my legs, and his gaze locks onto the newly exposed skin.
There’s no embarrassment of exposure, just the anticipation of what comes next.
He raises his hands, grabbing my thighs, guiding each leg around his broad shoulders as the heat of his mouth radiates again against my skin.
But he doesn’t start. He just studies me for a long moment.“Remember, I stop if you let go,” he murmurs, and the words vibrate right against my clit.
I want to tell him I won’t let go, but I also know he’s skilled enough to break me, so I don’t want him to turn this into a challenge. The heat of his mouth is dangerous enough.
He begins with a single, lazy stroke of his tongue. Testing me like he wants to memorize every reaction.Then another, tracing slow circles that make my hips buck against his face before I even realize I am moving.
He alternates between feathery laps and flat pressure, the first making me miss the second every time, but equally amazing. It feels like he’s conducting an experiment in cause and effect. Each time I gasp or twitch, he recalibrates, doing something even more shattering.
The only noise in the trees is the wet sound of his mouth and the raggedness of my own breath as I fight the urge to let go of the branch and dig my hands into his hair.
This is going to be much more difficult than I suspected.
My eyes are narrow, lap after lap, until a rough suck of my clit rips a scream from my lungs. That changes the dynamic of things as he starts to tongue-fuck me, entering my channel with the rhythm that makes me want to bite the fucking branch, not just hold onto it.
Victory never tasted so good, but as I’m building up toward that high, he stops and looks up at me from between my legs. “I want to hear you,” he says, not as a command, but as something undeniable. “Let it echo.”
It’s only then that I realize I haven’t let out any sounds. It’s not because my chest isn’t heaving with them. It’s because I think I forgot how to breathe. How to even function.
I’m doing all I can to focus on that damn branch and his tongue.
He buries his face between my thighs again, and this time he’s merciless. His mouth is everywhere at once—lips, tongue, even teeth nipping with just enough pressure to make me fucking losemy mind, lose any sense of reality as I jerk and moan. It’s a string of whimpers and helpless little cries that I’d be mortified to hear played back.
There’s a low appreciative hum in the back of his throat as he hears me. He slides one hand up until his palm is splayed against my stomach, grounding me as he works me over.
The other hand keeps my thigh in place, opening me wide open, so there’s nowhere to escape.
When he senses I’m close—because of course he senses it, this man knows me inside out by now—he switches tactics. He slows down to a more teasing pace, then speeds up again, driving me to the edge before pulling me back, like I’m a fish on a line.
My vision goes white at the edges, and I almost lose my grip on the branch for a second. But I hold on. I’m not going to let go of the branch even if my shoulders rip out of their sockets.
Then, as if to break me, he slides two fingers inside me, raising his head to look at me as his thumb works on my clit, the other digits curving inside.
I breathe out watching him, watch me, tracing each reaction as his fingers dig into my channel, moving against the walls into the most maddening rhythm. Every time he drives that fucking thumb over my swollen nub, I feel I'll faint.
“When this is all over, I’m gonna bring you here and fuck you against each tree in this forest,” he whispers, and for a second, I look around me.
“That’s a lot of trees,” I say through my teeth, barely holding myself together.
“Exactly,” he says with a smirk, leaning in. His tongue traces hard now, his fingers curl up and forward so deep that I feel he’ll rip me in half, and he hits a spot inside me that makes my world tilt. Then he prepares the final blow. His lips wrap around my clit, and he bites slowly, then sucks hard until I think he extracts my soul through there.
I scream, moan, beg, as my body spasms in a release so strong, I almost lose consciousness. I let go of the branch and wrap my arms around him, my fingers tangling in his hair.
