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A smile spreads across Bee's pretty face. "I forgot to warn you about noses."
"Noses," I murmur. "And biting. You seem to have left out a great many things."
Her chuckle warms me. "It's just…one of those sorts of things that you do on instinct more than anything else."
My instincts are full of destruction, though. Of someone else's memories. I cannot trust them at all. So I remind myself of all the things once more—noses, biting, touches—and then lean in and carefully, carefully place my lips over hers. Her taste sings through my senses, but most of all, I am acutely aware of her skin pressing against mine, of her teats pushing against my chest as I cup her face and kiss her, and of the feel of her against me. I rub my lips gently against hers, mimicking her actions and studying her responses.
She is quiet, her pulse calm as I push my mouth against hers, so I try something else. As she did to me, I nip at her lower lip, taking it into my mouth and sucking on it. That causes a burst of her arousal to scent the air, and between tasting her and that scent, I nearly forget my plan of attack. Instead, I luxuriate in Bee's closeness, her skin, her scent, her mouth, and nibble on her lips over and over again, until I release her lip and swipe my tongue over her top one.
That makes her gasp, her hands clenching against my chest. She lets out a small, shuddering breath, and squirms on my thigh again.
"May I tongue you?" I murmur, even though I have done it once already and she liked it. Bee likes control, so I will give her as much as I can…or the illusion of it, anyhow.
My words make her shiver, but she nods against my hands, her eyes heavy-lidded and dazed as she gazes up at me.
I lean in, careful to do this right, and think that this Riffin is a fool. Bee's cunt smells so beautifully that it is making my mouth water. How did he fail to pay attention to her small signals? She does not know how to ask for pleasure—is not even sure she wants to ask—but she still enjoys it. I tilt my head, careful to slant my mouth over hers the way she showed me, and slick my tongue into her mouth again.
Later, when I have time to go over every detail, I will revel in her taste and how her mouth feels. For now, it is all about Bee and her responses. How I can make her cunt wet and dripping with need. How I can make her squirm on my leg until she is panting aloud and clinging to me, demanding more kisses.
I stroke my tongue against hers experimentally. Mine feels so much larger than hers that I worry about choking her with my enthusiasm. I keep my movements light and teasing, dipping my tongue against hers in toying motions that promise more without overwhelming. Her taste and scent are everywhere, and when she makes a soft, whimpering sound against my conquering mouth, I want to shout to the skies with triumph.
I am a champion kisser, after all.
17
BEE
I lie on the narrow bed that night and touch my mouth, my thoughts whirling.
It didn't take long for Victor to make a liar out of me. Jesus. That kiss was…intense. Actually I don't even know if I can call it a kiss, because it was more of a make-out session and the kissing was just an afterthought. It was like he was utterly focused on my pleasure, on how to use his tongue on me. His hands were everywhere, and he touched me and studied me so thoroughly that I was practically flinging myself at him by the time he finally truly tongue-kissed me.
It was…intense. Achingly sweet, oh-so-careful, and so good that hours later I'm still thinking about it.
I squeeze my thighs together in the bed, because my pulse is pounding between them. I'm clothed now, but that doesn't stop the barrage of emotions racing through me. I might as well be naked and touching myself, because I don't think I could be any more turned on. After we broke apart from the kiss, I babbled a million excuses as to why I needed to escape, and practically flung myself off his lap and raced away to the far end of the house. I'm pretty sure if Victor could purr, he'd be purring in that moment. I've never seen a guy look so damn satisfied with himself.
I'm also pretty sure he could smell how turned on I was. He smells everything.
So I spent the rest of the evening racing around the house, putting things away, drying our clothes (mine first) and then making a list of things we needed. Victor needs more clothes, I need more clothes, we need food, a bed for him…the list goes on and on.
