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He presses his lips more firmly against mine, tongue delving deep, using my mouth as a distraction to make everything else he is testing acceptable.
The pads of his thumb and forefinger pinch the tight bud, and I moan, encouraging him further. He dares a twist, pinching harder, and a noise I didn’t plan bubbles from my throat. One of unbridled pleasure. A deep throated hum and squeak all in one.
My hips grind, clit seeking a similar friction. But I know he doesn’t understand that response is another suggestion. He is in a different type of headspace right now. A very focused one.
Despite not being accustomed to having to tell or show a man what to do, I relish in the new experience. Ache for it. I grip his wrist with a force I was not expecting and drag his hand down past my breasts, over my stomach, between my legs, and under the scant material of my g-string. “I need you, Zane,” I pant as the tips of his fingers barely tease my clit. Almost there. When his hand doesn’t jerk to escape, I inch it just a bit lower until it’s perfectly placed. “Right there,” I breathe, snaking my tongue out to taste him while placing my middle finger parallel to his and showing him exactly how to rub. After a few smooth, rhythmic circles, I show him how to dip his finger down and slip inside me to collect my juices before sliding upward again and slicking my clit.
As soon as he feels the difference — connects that his actions have resulted in a change in my body’s response — one of those deep, growly sounds hitch inside his chest. One response at a time, we experiment and figure each other out.
However, with that sensuous rub and that growly deepening of a kiss, the first throb of an orgasm pulses to life.
Despite wanting so much to let go, to explode, I scramble to make sure he understands. I will myself to hold off just long enough. “Zane,” I whisper, breathy and desperate again. “I’m going to come.”
He freezes, and my entire body goes warm at the notion of making him pleasantly uncomfortable this time. “I need you to feel what you do to me. To understand. Do you trust me?” I ask, stealing the moment of seriousness to ask a serious question.
He nods, breaths doubling yet again.
With the hand I still have around his neck, I straighten and pull his mouth to my breast. With the hand I had guiding his, I pinch two fingers together and slip them inside my body. His tongue snakes out to tentatively flick my nipple, tasting then relishing. My pussy clenches around his fingers, and I detonate, chest heaving against his hungry mouth and pussy grasping at his fingers. My hips curl inward, seeking deeper penetration, and a groan trickles out of his throat and vibrates against me. Our bodies speak in this way, moaning and humming as I grind and he drives.
“Yes,” I breathe out with a whimper before slowing down, easing my hips still again, and dipping my mouth down to his, stealing a few final kisses with smaller pecks and gentler swoops of my tongue, encouraging him to slow the thrusting of his fingers.
He does so, and we break away completely, except for our eyes, those remain locked. In my peripheral vision, I spot the limpness of his hand as he drops it across my thigh. I take yet another chance and lift his hand. “Taste me.”
He doesn’t fight the suggestion, allowing me to bring his fingers to his mouth and slip them between his lips. All the while, our eyes remain locked. That buried hunger in him is now ravenous, his cock hard and needy beneath me.
He tastes me, and he enjoys it, eyes fluttering for a brief moment before he licks them clean. I wiggle myself off of his lap and onto my knees between his, my eyes aimed up at him from beneath my lashes.
At this he, unfortunately, does not cave. Zane shakes his head and slowly grabs my hand to guide me back up.
