Page 151 of Love at First Fright

Wet. Soft.

A tongue.

“Oh!” The sound ripped out of me, surprise and want tangled together. “You don’t—fuck—you don’t need to do that.” Should I mention I hadn’t showered since this morning? Would that completely murder the mood?

“Are you kidding?” Bat’s voice vibrated against my skin. “I can’t eat crisps. May as well eat your ass.”

My mouth opened—protest half formed—but then his tongue swept across my hole, one broad deliberate stroke, and thought shattered like a guitar string snapping mid-solo.

“Fuck.” The word dissolved into the pillow.

He worked me over with shameless enthusiasm, tongue circling and pressing, dragging moans from somewhere deep inside me. The bed springs creaked ominously under our combined weight—well, my weight and whatever ghostly physics kept Bat solid.

My legs trembled. Threatened to give out entirely. Every inch of my body sang, a crescendo building note by impossible note. Fuck. How was he making me feel this good?

I’d never dated someone who was into rimming. I’d been rimmed exactly twice before—both times awkward, perfunctory. This was very much something else entirely. Bat attacked my hole like he was starving, like this was the first meal he’d had in decades.

Which, technically, it probably was.

“Bat. That’s… oh god, that’s…”

“Good?” His breath ghosted cool against wet skin.

“Understatement of the bloody century.”

He chuckled—vibration shooting straight through me, making me jerk forward. Then his hands gripped my ass, spreading me wider as he dove back in with renewed determination.

I buried my face in the pillow, muffling the embarrassing sounds pouring from my throat. His thumb hooked around my rim, pulling gently. Opening me. The stretch sent sparks up my spine as his tongue pushed deeper, working me from the inside.

“Bat!” I fisted the sheets as tightly as I could. “Please, just shove it in me.”

“Not yet.” He murmured against me. “That was just the first course.”

The snick of the lube bottle made me twitch. Then his thumb—properly slicked now—pressed against my entrance. Far colder than his tongue. He worked it in slowly. Carefully.

“Still good?”

“More than good.” My voice barely worked. “Please, just… more.”

His thumb pumped in and out, stretching me gradually whilst his other hand stroked soothing circles on my lower back. The dual sensations—pleasure and that bright edge of pain—had me trembling.

“Please, Bat.” My fingers twisted in the sheets. “Just get inside me. I really fucking need to come.”

He pulled back slightly—the loss of his mouth a physical ache. “How do you want this?”

I twisted to stare at him over my shoulder, exasperated. “Literally like this.” What else did he need? I was on my hands and knees, ass in the air, prepped and begging for it. “What more instruction do you require?”

His grin turned predatory. “I mean, do you like it gentle or rough?”

I didn’t hesitate. “Oh, definitely not gentle.”

Bat’s laugh came low and dark. Crack. His hand slapped against my thigh—fierce, stinging—before his fingers dug in, squeezing hard enough to bruise.

“Splendid.”

I barely had time to process before he hooked his thumb into my rim and pulled down. Opened me roughly. My knees buckled, dropping me lower as my cock jerked between my legs.

“Fuck!” The word ripped out.