Page 37 of Pay the Piper

“I think it would be very informative if you’d send me a full list of your favorites. I’d love to know what you’re reading that involves descriptive pussy eating. Maybe we can add things from your books to our to-do list.”

“We have a list?”

“Mm-hmm. It’s about a mile long. But as I’ve said, I’m a patient man.”

Taking one more step toward her, I gently tuck a curl behind her ear. Her temples are moist, and I love that she got herself that worked up for me. She’ll be resplendent when she’s drenched, ruining my sheets with her sweat and our cum…That’s what the linen service is for. I’ll buy a million sheet sets if I have to.

“And I think, if you’ll allow me, I might be able to explain a bit more thoroughly exactly what the books are describing.” My voice is low and rough, even to my own ears, as I lean forward just enough to barely touch my forehead to hers. “Please, Abby. Can I taste you? I need to taste you, darling, and show you exactly how much pleasure you deserve.”

“I’m not sure why you want to…nobody…” She huffs, a frustrated, sharp sound that I plan to eradicate from her repertoire as soon as possible. “Guys don’t like doing that to women. Not in real life, at least in my experience. I don’t want you to think that you have to—”

“I don’t do anything I don’t want to do.” My tone brings her gaze back to mine in a snap. “I promise, there’s nothing in the world that I’d like to do more right now than make you come all over my face, sweetheart. I’m hoping that I can prove you’ll love it, and then let me do it whenever I want.” Another wink has her relaxing again, and she releases her battered lower lip with a resolute nod.

“Okay. But if you try to tell me that I taste like a chocolate-dipped ice cream cone, I’ll—”

She dissolves into giggles, and I scoop her up off the sofa and drop her onto my bed, but as I rise, caging her in the safe cocoon of my arms, the mirth in her eyes melts back into the heat I long to be burned by.

“You’ll understand in a moment. Can I see you? I don’t only want to kiss this perfect pussy. I’d like to taste every bit of you that you’re willing to give.”

Her acquiescence is sure, and as I peel the soft, stretchy dress that’s been driving me crazy all day down her body, I let her see how ravenous she’s made me.

“I’m sorry I haven’t waxed in a while. I wasn’t thinking—”

“I love this, darling. You’re a vision. Every bit of you is fiery.”

Her red curls are wild, just like her. On another day, I’ll appreciate the delicate lace she apparently favors, and hopefully, she’ll allow me to rip a few pairs to shreds…eventually. For now, she’s finally bared to me, and any fantasy I’ve conjured of her pales compared to the real thing. She’s not as comfy as she should be, though, and that just won’t do. Two fluffy pillows later, I’m confident that she’s positioned well for the long haul. Hours, if I’m lucky.

“Am I allowed to touch and kiss you wherever I want, Abby?”

From my vantage point at the foot of the bed, it’s obvious she’s fighting the urge to cover herself. Her legs are crossed, but she’s brave and doesn’t move to deny me the intoxicating visual of her breasts. My sweatpants and T-shirt are itchy and constrictive, suddenly nothing but a barrier between pressing myself into the soft skin of the goddess before me. But although she’s seen plenty of my tattoos by now, I don’t want to distract her in any way. She needs to focus on sensation and her likes and dislikes, not my body.

“Is there any inch of you I’m not allowed to touch?”

She shakes her head as I finally succumb to the magnetic force that’s drawn me toward her since the moment I saw her. My fingertips graze along the outside of her calves, slowly working in circles to release the tension I find. The release is instant as she warms under my touch, and she sinks back further into the pillows as I barely pinch her.

“Words, lesnaya. You have to answer me verbally every time I ask you a question, or I’ll never know what you think.”

“You can touch me,” she says softly. Then, as if remembering the rest of my question, she continues more firmly. “Anywhere.”

“That’s a good girl,” I purr, hooking my hands around her knees and slowly pushing them up and back. With her feet flat on the bed, she’s open to me and what a fucking sight she is. Her sweet pussy is dripping for me, and as her thighs fall back and she relaxes into her new position, her inner lips spread in invitation. “Are you comfortable?”

“Yes.”

“Can I kiss you anywhere I want?”

“Yes.”

“You’re a very quick learner, Miss Reid.” It sounds wrong to call her that. She should be Mrs. Mavrin. She will be, soon enough.

Her skin is quick to pebble under my touch, and I continue my soft strokes up and down her calves, eyes locked between her legs. The shift in my life feels seismic, as if claiming this woman today will be the moment that determines the trajectory for the rest of my life.

“Um, aren’t you bored?”

Clearly, I’ve been staring at her core and massaging her calves for long enough that she’s antsy, and her question is the perfect reminder of my purpose.

“I could never be bored with touching you. I told you I would try to explain why your books describe a woman’s taste the way they do, but I’ll start here.”

I still haven’t ventured above her knees, but I slowly drag the back of my hand along the inside of her thigh, all the way down to where her perfect ass graces my comforter. Up and down, out and in, I change my pattern before swapping to her other leg. My touch never gets too close to her center, but my knuckles graze her curls every few passes, and I can see her clench around nothing. That won’t be a problem for you much longer, sweet girl. You’ll be full any time you want.