Page 51 of Theta

I squeeze and caress her breasts as I set about learning what makes her scream. It doesn't take long—I quickly discover that she responds best to quick, light strokes of my tongue against her clit, and so I give her that until she starts to whimper and thrust, and then I change it up, find the next thing that makes her wild: suckling her clit.

I get her to the edge again, make her buck and whimper and thrust, and then I find something else to drive her wild with. I pierce her clenching pussy with a finger, and then a second, and now she's so wet and hot and slick that I can fit a third finger inside her, wedged deep in a delta shape, and I thrust them in and curl, scrape her G-spot while flicking her clit with my tongue in light, soft, slow, rhythmic upward strokes. I repeat that action without hurry, no matter how hard she thrusts and mewls, no matter how tightly she wraps those hot velvet thighs around my skull with punishing, crushing, beautiful power. While I'm doing this, I'm pistoning my fingers inside her, slowly at first and with gradually increasing speed.

She meets me eagerly, thrusting against my mouth and fingers, using her thighs to keep me where she wants me and clutching my head with her hands and humming and whimpering and keening through clenched molars.

I hear a snort from the other room, and the snort becomes a groan—the sound of rousing.

Shit. Not yet, Enzo.

The snores resume their rhythm, and I can breathe again. If he'd woken up and I'd had to stop, I don't like to think about what Story's response would be.

Kind of scaroused just thinking about it, honestly.

I look up and meet Story's eyes—and I see mirth. She's shaking with laughter, and when my eyes meet hers, she snorts, and then dissolves into giggles. "Hurry," she whispers. "I'm close."

The distraction means I get to start all over again…and within seconds, Story's hips are pumping furiously as my fingers drive into her and my tongue flicks and flies and circles with the light, quick touch she responds to so beautifully.

I pinch her nipples with my free hand, one and then the other in alternation, pulsing pinches in time with the rhythm of my tongue against her clit, and then the rhythmic tilt of her hips stutters, hesitates, and her whimpers and wails go silent for a moment…two…three, her hips lifted high, mouth open wide, eyes on mine wide with shock at the power of the orgasm barreling through her.

Her breath escapes in a squeak at first, and then a gasp, and then a few quick pants, and then she's throwing her head back and clutching my face against her with one hand and biting down on the knuckles of the other to muffle her screams.

"KILLY!" she wails, and then claps a hand over her mouth, but another wave of climax smashes through her, and she seizes my head in both hands and crushes me against her and grinds herself against my mouth, and now I thrash her clit hard and fast and relentlessly with my tongue in a renewed assault.

My reward is the sounds she makes as she comes all over my face, the soft cries and shrill whimpers, the gasps and the wails into her knuckles, screaming as quietly as she can.

"Killy, oh my fucking god, Killy. Oh god, oh god, oh god." She stares down at me, panting raggedly, breasts heaving, stomach curling in and hardening outward, sweat dotting her upper lip and forehead and the slope of her breasts. "Thank you, ohmygod, thank you," she whispers.

I press a soft, small kiss to the delicate silk of the upper inside of her thigh. "You didn't think I was done with you, did you?"

"What?" she breathes, puzzled. "Killy, I just came so—“

I start all over again, sliding a single finger inside her and swirling soft quick light licks to her clit, and she whimpers, and her hips tilt toward me, and she slaps a hand over her mouth to muffle the scream that tries to escape as climax builds and detonates almost in the same instant.

She goes from whimpering to screaming in an eye-blink, and her thighs clamp down around my ears, and she does a crunch, curling forward toward me, one hand over her mouth and the other clutching the top of my head, half holding me in place and half pushing me away, as if she can't decide which she wants.

Two fingers become three, and I suckle around her clit while pumping my fingers through the clenching heat of her pussy, harder and faster, and she's thrashing and writhing, and it's all I can do to hold on to her slippery hot sweatslick skin and keep my mouth fused to her flesh and my fingers inside her.

"Killy, I—oh! Oh fuck…oh fuck, I feel like I'm—"

All at once, she twists away from me and curls in on herself on her side, twitching and whimpering, half-sobbing. Concern and panic sear through me, and I lurch up off the floor and scoop her in my arms and cradle her on my lap, head on my chest.

"What did I do?” I ask in a whisper. "Are you okay?"

She nods, spasming, and her fingers dig into my pecs, and then she seizes my trapezius muscle in her teeth and growls through another wrenching spasm. "I felt like I was gonna—" she stops, shakes her head. "Holy shit, Killy. Holy shit."

Suspicion simmers, and I let the concern and panic subside, let a wolfish grin spread across my face. "You're okay, sweetheart."

Story pulls back, looking almost angrily at me. "Are you laughing at me?"

“No," I say, my voice shaking.

"Don't piss on my head and tell me it's raining, Killian Harris. You're laughing."

“Yes, but not at you, not in a mocking sense. I'm not even teasing."

"Then why the fuck are you laughing?"

"Why don't you tell me why you stopped me?" I counter.