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He is so much stronger than me, and the fact he is so very aware of having to be gentle with my body makes my head spin; he is not just aware of it, he is putting my comfort and pleasure above his own.
And that is something I have never experienced before.
Something I never even knew existed.
“Fuck, Luna...” He traces one finger over my wet, sensitive core. “Do you know how many times I’ve thought about this?”
He looks up at me and the intense, piercing, eye contact makes me gasp. He keeps staring at me while he kisses my inner thighs, drawing slow deliberate patterns on my skin.
He lets out a low growl and flashes his fangs at me.
Does he want to bite me? Is he contemplating it right now? Sinking his teeth into my flesh and sucking, and sucking.
He reaches the scars that tell the story of my pain.
I remember each one.
I remember what I was feeling, and how much I was hurting.
And he kisses them. One by one — pressing his lips to them, then stroking with soft fingers as if he might be able to erase them. Or make them mean something else. Something beautiful.
He rests his cheek on the inside of my thigh and strokes me for the longest time.
Not my pussy.
Everything except my pussy.
His hands roam my legs, my hips, my stomach.
Then finally, when I am whimpering for his touch on my clit, he presses his lips to it and begins to suck.
I feel the vibrations in my core as he uses his tongue and his mouth to explore me.
It is as if he is reading my sounds, and my movements. When I moan, he gives me more. If I tilt my hips toward him, he gives me more.
He is fast, and slow, and hard, and soft, and everything in between.
I arch my back, my hips bucking as I feel his tongue dancing on my sensitive spots, his fingers teasing the edges of my pussy.
I grab his hair, and he looks up at me with a mischievous smile.
“I need your fingers inside me.” I plead with him.
He obliges immediately, hooking two fingers inside and moving them in tandem with his tongue.
Pleasure ricochets through me.
It is almost unbearable.
“Please, don’t stop.” I am grinding my hips, gripping the pillows. My whole body is on fire, and my skin is laced with sweat.
He knows I’m close, that I can’t hold back any longer. He keeps the same rhythm, doesn’t change it or slow down or speed up. I cry out in pleasure. He laps at me, his tongue flicking against my clit and sending shockwaves through my body.
I can feel the pleasure building inside me. It is going to consume me at any moment. My breath hitches. I bunch my fist and slam it into the mattress while Lucien continues his relentless assault, his lips and tongue working together to unleash the most intense orgasm I’ve ever experienced.
As I come, my entire body trembles. It coils tighter and tighter, and as the wave of pleasure subsides, sweeping back through my limbs, my muscles weaken. My eyes roll, and all I can do is lie back on the pillows, panting, unable to think about anything except the way he made me feel.
Lucien nibbles the inside of my thigh. He stokes me gently, then uses his tongue to clean my wetness. This time, though, he is not trying to turn me on. He is soft and tender.
