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Her breath stuttered, eyes hazy. She obeyed him, moving her hands above her head and clasping her wrists together.
He reached for her waist and dragged her down the bed until her bottom was at the edge and her legs hung down.
He sank to his knees on the carpet, gently pushing her legs wider and spreading the folds of her wet sex with his thumbs.
She bit her lower lip. “What are you doing?”
“Preparing you for my mouth. I’m at the perfect height now.”
“Yourmouth?”
“I want to taste you. Satisfy you. Make you come with my mouth. Would you like that?”
“Oh.” She raised her head slightly, arms held high above her head. “Yes, please. Carry on.”
Petal-soft skin and mist-smile in her eyes. She wanted to be pleased.
She deserved to be bathed in pleasure, float away in it, and he could give it to her.
What a gift it was to be the one to give her this experience. He would make this so good.
He spread one palm over her belly so that he could feel her responses.
He lapped at the hood of her sex with his tongue, dancing around the main course. She squirmed beneath his tongue and her belly trembled under his palm.
She had the most adorable rounded belly, not flat like his but with a few soft rolls of flesh that drove him wild.
He rose on his heels to have a view of her tumbled hair and hazy eyes, her full breasts pushed high by the position of her arms.
Had he really thought he was content to be alone? He’d been only half living. His senses dulled.
He felt so alive, his purpose narrowed to one task: make Mina cry his name in ecstasy.
He resumed his work, licking the folds of her sex, uncovering the sensitive bud at the center and flicking his tongue back and forth. Her soft belly rippled, thighs trembling on either side of his head.
She liked that.
His tongue danced again, finding the steps that made her roll her hips to meet him and her breath come in little gasps.
“Drew,” she moaned.
His heart soared into the heavens. He redoubled his efforts; moving his hands under her hips, angling her against his mouth.
He dipped his tongue inside her. She tasted slightly salty and honey sweet.
A frustrated sound above him, a little breathy moan. She was close now. She didn’t want him to stop licking.
He was hers to command.
Tongue stroking faster now, her body straining beneath him, striving for climax.
He was everything essential to her right now, her wild London adventure. He’d prove his worth again and again.
Her hands came to his head, fingers buried in his hair, clutching his skull. He rubbed his cock against the side of the bed in the same rhythm his tongue was using, aroused by the taste of her, the sound of her sighs.
She was close now. Stay right there, her hands told him. Don’t stop.
A few more seconds of steady, firm tongue strokes and she came at last, undulating her hips, riding his tongue and digging her nails into his scalp.
