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Even through the fabric he could taste her. He pressed his tongue hard against her and was rewarded with her shocked gasp. He smiled against her, nudged her with his nose. “Just let me. For a little while.”
He looked up and saw her nod. One tiny dip of her chin, but that was all it took. He tugged her panties down, slid them off her legs. He felt her knees squeeze in as if she wanted to hide herself, so instead of dipping his head again, he covered her dark blond curls with his hand. She was beautiful. So wet for him already. He stroked his thumb along the top of her pussy and watched the muscles of her thighs jump.
“You don’t have to try at anything, Veronica. Just let me touch you. Even if you don’t come, I still want to taste you. I want you on my tongue. I want to hear the sounds you make when I lick you. That’s all.”
It was a lie, but it was one she needed to hear. He meant to make her come if he had to eat her pussy for an hour. And he was good at it. He’d been one of only three men in his entire master’s program who’d been straight and single, so he’d been used for a lot of late-night stress relief. More important, he’d heard hundreds of discussions about sex from the woman’s side of things. And he’d always been good at paying attention.
Back then it had been a more selfish act. A twentysomething guy with a great reputation for going down? He’d loved it. Now he loved it for a different reason. He loved it because there was nothing hotter than making a woman come.
Veronica’s thighs relaxed as he stroked her clit. Her eyes relaxed, too. She was watching him past heavy lids now, her lips parted as her breath came faster. He stroked a hand down her thighs, urging her to open more. She did, just a fraction of an inch at first.
He bent down to kiss the inside of her knee, then higher up, then the very top of her thigh, and the whole time he stroked her clit with slow, soft movements. He dragged his tongue up the tight tendon of her thigh that led right to her pussy.
She tensed again, but he wasn’t going to do what she anticipated. Instead of licking the pink, wet center of her, he licked her plump outer lip, tasting how aroused she was for him already. She was so turned on he couldn’t imagine what a poor job some asshole had done at this the first time. She was nervous, yes, but she was glistening with arousal.
Still stroking lightly at her clit, he sucked her lip and gently worked his tongue against her. Then he did the same to the other side. Her thighs widened without any urging from him now. Her pussy spread open. She was deep pink and so gorgeous. Gabe swept his tongue inside her.
Her sound of shock was muffled, as if she’d kept her mouth shut tight against it. The taste of her pussy flooded his tongue as he dragged it higher. He removed his thumb and replaced it with his mouth, and he sucked at her clit. The sound she made wasn’t muffled anymore. It was a loud cry. When he flicked his tongue against her, she exhaled on a hiss. He watched her hands clutch at the edge of the couch cushions. And then he settled into it.
She wasn’t loud. The noises she made were soft and subdued, as if she didn’t want to disturb him. He started out with soft flicks of his tongue, teasing her a little, finding out what she liked. He eased his hands beneath her ass and held her to his mouth like a treat. He liked controlling her this way, holding her steady, feeling the way her muscles flexed and tensed at the pleasure.
When he licked her more firmly, she squirmed against him, just the way he’d wanted
her to. “Oh, God,” he heard her whisper. “Oh, God, that feels good.”
He quickened his tongue to see if she’d like that, and she did. He sucked at her again, gently at first, then more firmly, feeling her small clit swell against his tongue.
“Gabe,” she groaned, her hips pressing up against his mouth.
He moaned against her pussy, letting her feel the vibration of it through her most sensitive nerves.
“Oh, God,” she gasped again. He felt her tense, but when he glanced up, she was shaking her head. “I’m sorry,” she rasped. “I’m sorry—I can’t.” She pressed her hands hard to the couch and eased away from his mouth.
“Shh,” he murmured. “We’re just getting started.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I can’t, and I don’t want you doing this just because you think I need it.”
“Jesus, Veronica. Do you think I don’t like this?”
She stared at him, mouth pressed together, forehead tight with a frown.
Gabe rose up on his knees. He tore open the button of his shorts. “You want to see how much I like it?”
Her eyes fell to his hands as he pulled down the zipper. She didn’t answer; she just watched as he pushed down his briefs and eased his cock out. “Look how hard I am,” he said, wrapping a fist around his cock. “That’s how turned on I am from eating your pussy.”
She was breathing harder again, the worry falling from her face. She licked her lips and they shone with a moisture that Gabe would die to feel around him.
“Here,” he murmured. “Feel how hard you make me.” He took her hand and slowly moved it toward his cock. She dragged her fingertips along the underside, making the breath shudder from his throat. Then her hand closed around him. Pleasure crashed over him.
“Oh,” she sighed, such a gentle sound compared to the violent need that twisted through him. “You are hard.”
He couldn’t help his desperate laugh. Yes, he was hard. He was fucking dying. She sat up a little to get a better angle. Then she squeezed him. “You’re big, Gabe.”
Oh, Jesus. He closed his eyes to shut out the sight of her. Her pale hand around his cock, her glistening mouth and wide eyes, and her pussy spread for him. He needed to push his hips forward. Needed her to guide his cock into her. He needed to fuck her hard and fast until he came deep inside her.
He couldn’t.
She stroked him then, and he couldn’t help the words that spilled from his lips. “Yes. Stroke me. Oh, fuck that feels good.” He opened his eyes to watch her hand work him slowly. The movements were clumsy, uncertain and the best fucking thing he’d felt in years.
