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Sweat beads across my hairline. He’s about to find another injury that runs up to a patch of skin inches away from my pussy.
Anticipation shivers down my spine. I want more of that tongue.
He parts my thighs so wide that the cotton fabric of my knickers stretches taut over my swollen clit. I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping he doesn’t notice I’m so aroused and wet.
“This one is quite deep,” he says, his voice thick.
It isn’t nearly as bad as the one on my breast, but I don’t utter a word in contradiction. Instead, I wait for him to make his next move.
The Boogie Man traces small circles over the wound, covering the same ground three or four times before moving on to the next patch of unhealed skin.
His hands grip my thighs so tightly that he’s sure to leave bruises. It doesn’t matter, as it’s another excuse to ask for his tongue.
“Open wider.” He stretches my legs further apart. “I want to see it all.”
My throat tightens with a whimper. Is he talking about the cut or the outline of my pussy?
His leisurely, languid licks stoke a furnace inside me that’s almost as desperate as the heat I suffered in my dream.
“Please,” I whisper.
“Please, what?” he replies. “If there’s something you desire, I want you to use your words.”
Leaning up, I try to study his expression, but he lowers his head to lap at my cut. Each swipe of his tongue brings a fresh wave of arousal that adds to my heat.
He’s moving too slowly. Too gently. But I don’t want him to stop.
“I need more,” I say, hoping he doesn’t ask me to elaborate.
“You like how I’m healing your cuts?” he asks.
I bite down on my bottom lip. “It feels so good.”
“How far do you need me to heal you?”
A pleasant shiver runs down my spine and settles between my pussy lips. “All the way.”
The Boogie Man continues licking but doesn’t quicken his pace. He pauses every so often to glance at the patch of fabric between my legs.
“You’re so wet, yet I haven’t even reached your cunt,” he growls.
“I can’t help it,” I reply with a whimper.
“What a greedy girl,” he purrs. “Tell me what you want.”
Heat flares across my cheeks. He wants me to ask him to lick my pussy. I should still be freaking out. This is the creature who turned my life upside-down.
Because of him, I discovered things about myself I could have spent a lifetime not knowing, but his wet tongue and filthy words are the ultimate distraction.
“Tell me,” he growls.
“I want your tongue on my clit.”
He grazes the cotton fabric stretched over my swollen bundle of nerves with his fingertip. “Here?”
“Fuck, yes.”
“That patch of wetness keeps spreading,” he says.
