Page 50 of Graciously His

He reaches to one side and I hear the sound of a cap being opened.

“What are you doing?”

“Since your ass likes my tongue so much, we’re going to try fingers next. How does that sound?”

“Fucked up.”

His answering laugh is deep and appreciative, and I feel myself smiling in answer.

“Are you ready, Grace? I’ll start with one finger.”

I nod, wanting to know if this will feel the same as his tongue. I wince a little. The pressure is different, more intrusive.

“It’s—” I squirm and he withdraws, “fuck, I don’t think I like it.”

“You’ve tightened up. That’s okay, love.” His eyes are so warm I could almost say they’re sweet. “You’re doing so well, letting me touch you here. I’ll take every little bit of it I can get.”

His words help me relax, tension releasing slowly. Nate massages my thighs for a few minutes, and I find myself lying back on the mattress. When he presses into me again, his finger slips inside without pain. I give a low moan.

“There now, push against me just a bit, Grace.” I obey, feeling the pressure ease as I bear down. Nate’s mouth opens as he pushes his finger further in. “Fuck that’s good.”

He thrusts slowly as I get used to the sensation. It’s less pleasant than his tongue, but a tingly warmth is stirring deep inside. I realise I’m panting, making involuntary humming noises. It’s like my body understands this as a completely different use for a part that has never been a pleasure zone before. His free hand presses on my belly, counter pressure that releases even more tension. Something gives way and he pumps his finger a little faster.

“Are you okay, love?”

I’m barely cogent, words unavailable right now. “Nate, I—”

My voice fades into a whimper as he goes deeper.

“Listen to you,” he murmurs, “making the nicest little sounds.”

He thrusts hard and I mewl. The sensation is close to painful, but it’s also fulsome and hot. Then Nate does something that makes me collapse: he leans right in and puts his tongue on my clit. Pleasure hits me like a blow to the back of the head, the sensations in my backside lancing up and out.

“Yes,” he murmurs, “can you take another one?”

He’s pressing a second finger into me before I can answer. I keen at the stretch. He pauses, then I feel the cool wetness of more lube. And then—

“Fuck. God, please, Nate—”

“You need my mouth on you, sweet little heart?”

“Fucking yes!”

He tongues my clit, slow and sensual, even as he’s speeding up the thrusts, two fingers opening me up.

“Fuck, don’t stop—GOD, so—so good—”

I press my hands over my face, unable to continue, unable to think when he goes even harder, deepening the penetration with each thrust until he’s all the way to his knuckles.

“Yes,” he growls against my pussy, “that’s perfect, Grace. You’re perfect.”

Nate wraps his lips around my clit and I’m coming before I know what’s happening. It’s a clenching orgasm, rippling from back to front, twisting something deep inside. I’m making sounds I can’t control, screams that fade into whimpers. But I’m clenching too hard, too tight.

“Nate,” I whimper, “take them out, please.”

“Are you hurting, love?”

I nod, though it’s more discomfort than pain, as if my body has shrunk back down, clamping on the invasive fingers still buried within. He doesn’t take them out. Instead, he moves his palm to my stomach again, providing that same counter-pressure.