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“I will only kiss you, I promise. Just my mouth, OK?”
I nod, giving my consent.
His lips stroke my neck softly, his tongue enters my mouth with a long, deep lick before it drifts to my ear. He nibbles the lobe while I feel his fingers slowly pry my thighs apart. They’re clamped together with nervous anxiety. Unease over the discomfort that usually follows looms too close to allow me to fully engage with him. I’m so afraid. Afraid of the pain.
“You’re wonderful,” he whispers against my breast. He teases the nipple with his lips before swallowing it down into his warm, wet mouth. My body arches up to offer him more. The feeling is exquisite. So soft, and gentle. His words caress me just as much as his touch. I can feel my body slipping into submission. Connor doesn’t hurt. Everything he does feels so incredibly good.
For long, lingering minutes, he licks one breast and then the other, spiraling me into a frenzy of need so intense I feel as if I may shatter from his touch there. Is that possible? Can a person orgasm from being kissed and licked at her breasts alone? My Inner Sex Goddess begs me to find out.
His hands rove over my hips and belly, keeping well away from my velvety entrance below. Knowing where they are, feeling them work deliberately against my body, calms my anxiety a bit. He’s going to keep his promises.
He drops several light, soft kisses at my stomach and then leans up to look at me. I can’t see his expression in the utter darkness of the room, but I sense his gaze on me.
“This is where I need you to talk, Little Bird. Tell me everything. Tell me what feels good, what doesn’t. Tell me what you need, what you desire. This is for you.”
I gulp, and then softly whisper, “I’ll try.” Because the truth is I’m on the edge of absolute combustion. Words and thoughts are being drowned out of my mind as sensation and ecstasy take over.
I can feel the warmth of his sweet amused little grin as his voice rumbles into my inner thigh.
He peels away my panties and hums in whispered kisses back up my leg.
“You mean, all I had to do to get you to be quiet is to bury my face between your legs? Why didn’t you say that from the beginning?”
We both laugh and I open my trembling legs a bit wider for him. The comedy is just the dose I need to relax enough to let him past my defenses.
Connor’s pace is both deliberate and patient. The touch of his tongue is hot even against my fevered flesh. I let out a hard gasp at the first contact of his mouth against my intimate folds. The feeling is so soft, so gentle. But it forces intense shockwaves of sensation to ripple through my body, spreading in larger and larger waves as it fans out from my core, down into my limbs and rings through my ears.
“Are you OK?” he asks. I can tell by his tone he’s genuinely concerned.
“Yes,” I manage to gasp out. “I’m good.”
“You’re supposed to be talking to me, Raven.” His tongue licks through my folds once more.
“I can’t. It’s too wonderful,” I whisper. “Please, don’t stop yet.”
“I wasn’t planning to.” His words buzz through my body in hot vibrations that only heighten the sensations. I’m desperate to move, and my hips begin to roll softly as his tongue works against me, finally finding that tiny pearl of flesh begging for his attention.
“Don’t chase it,” he adds softly. “Just enjoy it.”
“God, Connor. I can’t help it. It’s so close,” I breathe. I can count on one hand the number of times I had an actual orgasm with Jemmy. That number would be two. Two times. Jemmy was too rough and too quick. He never really paid any attention to me or what I was feeling. On the rare occasions it happened, it was almost an accident. It wasn’t as if Jemmy worked to get me there. He only worked to get himself there.
Connor is his polar opposite. I have no doubt, his own unanswered desire to find release borders on painful at this point, and yet he doesn’t complain. He enjoys what he is doing. He keeps checking to see whether I like what he’s doing and how he’s doing it. I answer “yes” every time, of course. The man’s mouth is like pure heaven. “Yes” is the only word my Inner Sex Goddess can remember. The rest of my brain has turned into total mush.
I can feel my body cresting quickly. I’m desperate for release when Connor’s mouth stops. He licks up my body, giving my breasts a final kiss, before pressing his body alongside mine. My chest heaves up and down as I pant fervently. My heart thunders in my chest as I work to focus on what is happening. Why is he stopping?
“Touch me,” His command this time is pure begging. “I want to come with you. Make me come.”
I feel his fingers softly resume a slow gently swirl between my legs, massaging the swollen knot. My inner muscles clench in anticipation of my coming orgasm.
My hand moves to his shaft. It’s thick, fevered and slick from his desire. I slide easily over him in an easy rhythm that matches the tempo of his fingers against my flesh. His thumb and forefinger begin to massage and I feel myself ready to explode at any moment.
“Faster, Lainey.” He commands me again, and I couldn’t care less. I comply with eagerness, feeling his fingers increase their pace against my body as mine do against his.
In a rush of groans from him and my own soft screams, we climax together, our bodies convulsing and shuddering as violent spasms grip us both. Connor’s hand cups my belly, his fingers squeezing my flesh, holding onto me while he explodes into my fist, still gripping him fiercely.
Connor’s arms enfold me as our breaths race to find balance and our hearts work to regain a steady rhythm again.
We lie cradled together, chest to chest, a cooling little pool of spent desire on our bodies. Neither of us even cares. His breath restored, Connor kisses my forehead and whispers.
