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But somehow I know this is better.
Holding off, holding back, making her pleasure the center of it all. I want her to trust me, I want her to know that I’m not going anywhere.
As she starts to buck against her own fingers, body undulating with pleasure, I go back to my ministrations, taking long licks almost from her ass until her hair tickles my nose, battling with her furious hand. She’s gasping for breath, her free hand clutching at her chest, kneading her breasts through the soft fabric of her dress.
“So beautiful,” I whisper in awe. “My beautiful girl.”
She groans. “Please...”
And then it happens in one wonderful, messy moment. Her stomach pulls in, tensed, and her fingers yank at her cunt like a harpist playing a crescendo. I clamp my face over her slit, and feel the warmth spread through my lips. She grips the top of my head, sticky fingers twisting into my hair, pulling me hard onto her mound as I take every drop of honey.
Atlanta cries out, a long, needy note, and I thrust my tongue deep into her heaven, sucking and drinking until she runs dry.
Finally, she releases her grip, and I kiss back up her stomach. One breast has fallen out of her dress, revealing a tiny tight nipple, and I suck it into my mouth, making her moan again. I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving that sound, pure pleasure on her lips. I stare into her eyes, then clamp my mouth over hers, sharing what I know to be the most wonderful flavor in the world.
“Thank you,” she says when the kiss breaks, tears of exertion in her eyes. “I’m sorry. So sorry.”
I shake my head. “Never ever apologize to me again. Nothing you could ever do would be anything but perfect. That right there.” I run a finger over her sensitive slit and her mouth falls wide. “Worth being shot for.”
She laughs, her head lolling to the side. “Hold me. Please.”
“Your wish is my command.”
