Page 130 of Made Better Together

I’m so attuned to his movements now that even in the blackness, I feel his mouth inches away from my other nipple before he makes contact. He brings his lips around my bud, and ohhhhhh. I want to squeal as he consumes the second ball of chocolate frosting, and again lingers to give that breast equal time.

This time, the bolts of pleasure echo in my core, and I feel myself getting slick. I fight to avoid any movement, as he asked—but my body is craving friction.

He must realize I’m struggling. “You’re obeying me so well. You may move around now, Rosy. Make your little sounds too.”

“Thank you, Sir.” I get another peck on the mouth for that.

“I’m still hungry for chocolate, so we’ll enjoy a bigger serving this time.” The squirting returns, as he layers the frosting in lines across my breasts, the cold stripes once again sending tingles across my skin. “This is a proper helping. I’m going to be here a while.”

He spends the next several minutes making good on his word, devouring every inch of my breasts, returning again and again to my aching nipples. I moan and arch toward him, now that I have permission. The chocolate is long gone when he’s done, my breasts wet from his saliva.

They’re not the only part of me drenched. The slight tingling between my legs from his first few sucks has become an overwhelming need. My bottoms soaked, my legs shift uncomfortably as the want between my thighs grows.

Now that he’s not distracted by the chocolate, he seems to pick up on my needs. His hand lands on my lower stomach. “It’s time for my next dessert. A reward for how perfect you’ve been, and my favorite too.” He moves down my body to the top of my panties. “These are going to come off.”

“Yes, Sir.”

They’re gone a beat later, and he swings my legs outward. Next thing I know, he’s sitting down on the outdoor rug, in between my thighs.

“I already know I love how you taste, so I’ve been looking forward to this all day.” There are two faint sounds like he’s folding his glasses, the temple tips clicking against the rim. “Now, Rosy, you may come. I can tell you’re desperate. Don’t hold back, I want to feel that soft, pretty pussy quivering against my face.”

My cheeks heat over the fact that I’m so transparent, but I nod.

The darkness from my blindfold keeps me from seeing what’s coming, but a split second later, he closes the gap to my center, and his mouth licks up my seam.

“Ooooh, Sir…” He gives a pleased hum at my sound, before flicking my clit with his tongue, then does it again. And again. It’s just enough contact to make me yearn for more. I lift my hips as I catch onto his rhythm, chasing more prolonged attention on my clit.

He chuckles. “I like you eager. Only I decide how fast we go, though.”

A few more flicks, and a whimper flies out of me. Stop, Sir decides. That thought is not enough to stem my cries as he takes the next lick.

“Those sounds, you’re so responsive.” He must decide I’ve had enough teasing, because the next time he’s between my legs, he sucks hard.

A spike of ecstasy shoots through me. “Oh my God…”

He doesn’t come up or speak. Instead, he’s relentless on my clit, like he’s really being nourished by the little cries I’m making. Consuming me.

Knowing he said this was my reward, I ease toward my climax, enjoy the suctioning feel of his mouth, the flat of his tongue rubbing against me. I’m getting close, about to come when he escalates further—slipping three fingers into my pussy, then curling them inside me. The pleasure is so intense, I arch half an inch off the couch.

When I come a few seconds later, it’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced. The intensity of being unable to see what he’s doing, my senses heightened, this man in charge of what’s happening to me.

The whole encounter is pure bliss.

One I’ve only felt with him.

It takes a while for me to come down, resettle. The shakes linger. His hand softly soothes the side of my thighs until I recover.

When I do, my blindfold is still on, and he brings my legs back on the couch. “You’re incredible, Rosy. Best dessert of my life.” His voice is smooth and steady.

“Thank you, Sir.”

“It’s time for another first. Aftercare.”

The word helps bring my awareness out of the haze from my orgasm and into everyday Eden. Aftercare is another key part of this process I researched too. A way to make sure we, particularly me, recover to a healthy emotional and physical baseline after pushing our boundaries.

He kisses my temple, and I sense him stand straight up. “I’m going to remove the blindfold. The sun is almost set, but take it slow opening your eyes.”

The cloth comes off a moment later, and I blink my eyes. The skyline is washed with pretty blues and yellows, dim enough that I can handle it. Out of the corner of my eye, he’s putting his glasses back on.