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Misty smoke floats about, kissing the edge of his sharp jaw as he leans so close that his nose nudges my clit. There’s no stopping myself from getting wetter at the light touch or biting my bottom lip to prevent whimpering when his thick muscles relax from breathing me in.
Around his divine inhaling, Elias manages to murmur his grievance, “So much hair.”
Nuzzling me is abandoned for picking up the razor and returning to the task of removing the tiny hairs along the lowest part of my slit. I’m led back towards heaven by his delicate prodding and the spigot ceaselessly rinsing over the sexually tense territory.
Before too much time has passed, he’s tracing the shape of my bare cunt with his talented fingertips. “Mmm. Perfection.” Framing my lower lips with his hands, the man with too much power over me plants a hard, possessive kiss in the center of my soaking wet pussy. “Mine.”
Yours, I thoughtlessly echo back in my mind as I twine my fingers into Elias’s hair.
Bright red flares go off, warning me that if I don’t stop, I may become a junkie for these sensations or worse, let myself get trapped in this fucked up fairy tale fantasy I know I should be escaping.
“Tonguetoday,” Elias announces on a single lick, effortlessly ending the war of my body and mind. “Cocktomorrow.”
I quickly emphasize the concession I’ve been brought with a soft tugging of his thick strands. Elias promptly retaliates by carelessly dropping the tool and clamping his hands onto my hips, digging in hard enough to bruise.
To mark me.
His.
I bow from the pain along with the excitement of ownership just as his mouth latches into my pussy, tongue savoring the darkest depths of me.
I’ve been eaten out before.
But not like this.
His tongue – which is somehow both a poison and the antidote – slips out to line the length of my slit. It rapaciously licks every inch in its path, lapping up the leaking juices. Through hooded eyes, I watch the delightfully deft muscle disappear in and out of my swirling sopping, heat, marking the walls, carving his name on them, and rewriting the reasons why I can’t stay with the reasons I should. The tiny bristles on his chin, tickling back and forth, scraping and adding so much friction to the fire building inside of me that I’m suddenly just seconds away from being thrown over an orgasmic cliff.
“I’m about to come…” I mindlessly confess in a heavy, ragged breath.
God, just because you showed him Wolverine pussy doesn’t mean you have to sound like him too, Zel.
The declaration has Elias roughly plunging two stiff digits into the wet waves and curling them in ways that have me unable to shut my mouth. He ferociously works his insatiable tongue and eager fingers to the point I can’t stop twisting my hips around in a pleased agony. When his teeth lightly scape the edge of my clit at the same time his fingers tweak my g-spot, I embrace the wild side I usually deny, thrust my hands into my own long, wavy hair, and pull hard. “I’m coming!”
This is it.
This is why I caved.
I’m independent.
Smart.
Driven.
I just… I just need tonight.
One night where I don’t have to worry about bills and my frail mother and gambling addicted father. Just a few hours of fun, reckless exploration before having to mop up some sorority brat’s hangover or begrudgingly hand my brother fifty bucks I know he isn’t going to payback.
I needed this for me.
And one night of filthy fun with Elias Whittington is definitely something I am doing for me.
My orgasm donor stands up and allows his callused thumbs a brief moment to caress my shoulders. It’s a mild touch, but it will undoubtedly always bring me back to the first time a man shaved me.
The only time.
Ohmygod…He actually shaved me!
There’s a tenderness in his tone that I want to wrap around and embrace forever as he says, “First, we wash you, little doll.” His index finger glides over to my cheek onto my lower lip. “Next, we feed you.”
As if it couldn’t have been orchestrated any better, my stomach loudly growls. In spite of the noisy intruder, I silently continue to stare up at the alluring, dark paradox.
This only happened because I wanted to experience something new.
And everything that’s happened since I stepped off that elevator has been unexpected and twisted. Demanding yet, in the same heartbeat, giving.
Something about the way he moves and the things he says makes him seem so insatiable, like no matter what the next day brings he’ll always be hungry for more of me and only me. I’ve never been the focal point of any man’s desire. If I’m honest with myself, even on dates, their eyes have always wandered to waitresses or other women. It’s always been easy to brush off because I’ve always been more worried about my own future career or caring for mom or keeping the men in my family from losing money we don’t have to spare. I swore leaving here would be easy after just a few hours of ecstasy, but the truth is, I don’t know if I have what it takes to pull myself out of this dark, delectable arrangement with the one and only Elias Whittington.
