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“Fuck,” she whispered, rolling her hip to push her pussy closer to his mouth.
He stroked her clit with his tongue again, a little bit faster this time, his palms on her inner thighs, his thumbs keeping her folds parted.
An exquisite shudder wracked her body, and she moaned her approval and delight. “That’s an impressive tongue you have there, sir.”
He chuckled, blew a fine stream of air on her wet clit, and then painted it again with a slower swipe, this time teasing the sensitive nub with a swirl and flick.
“Oh fuck, yes,” she moaned.
He lifted his head, pressed a soft kiss on the top of the scar on her hip, and returned his mouth to her pussy again. She closed her eyes and fisted one hand in his hair, gripping the back of the sofa with her other. She needed an anchor. Who knew being so simply licked would make her knees tremble so much? It was as if she were being swept away in a tsunami of pleasure.
He licked her seam over and over, concentrating on her clit for delirious seconds each time, driving her to an edge she hadn’t balanced on for six months.
“You taste fucking incredible,” he murmured against her inner thigh, his thumb rolling over her clit in lazy circles that made her want to whimper. His teeth nipped her flesh, his tongue laved the tiny bruise, and then he was licking her pussy again, harder this time. Faster.
Deeper.
His hands moved to her ass, cupping and kneading with an almost frenzied hunger that made her sex constrict.
Hell, she was so close to coming, and he’d only just started.
She tightened her hand in his hair and tugged his mouth free of her sex, looking down at him through a pleasure-fogged haze. “Not yet,” she rasped with a slight shake of her head.
His nostrils flared, and he vibrated his thumb over her clit, watching her.
She tried not to close her eyes, tried not to melt against the sofa, but it was too damn good.
“Okay,” he murmured, a heartbeat before his breath fanned her folds and his tongue claimed her clit once again.
He worshipped her pussy. She had no other way of processing what he was doing down there with his tongue and teeth. Worshipped her clit, her seam, her sex. He nipped at her flesh, sucked it, licked it, probed it, all with a building rhythm that tore groan after groan after keening, pleading groan from her.
She clawed at his scalp, his shoulders, the back of his neck, gritting her teeth as a wave of concentrated pleasure rolled through her.
Hell, she was going to come. There was no stopping it. She could feel it tingling in her core, the soles of her feet, her brain…
Grabbing a fistful of his hair again, she rammed her butt to the back of the sofa and planted her feet on his shoulders, spreading her thighs as wide as her hips would allow.
A tiny shard of pain stabbed at her left one, protesting the unfamiliar position, and then her orgasm erupted, and there was nothing but intense, amazing, pulsing pleasure and Owen’s tongue and hands.
“Holy fuck,” she cried, bucking into his mouth as she held his head exactly where she wanted it.
Her release throbbed through her, from her.
He lapped at it, teased it from her, didn’t slow or break his rhythm, and she cried out as another orgasm rocked through her.
“Holy fuck,” she ground out again, vision fogging, her whole body thrumming.
She clung to his hair, toes actually curling, breath little more than shallow, hitching pants, until—with one last slow lick of her clit—he drew back from between her thighs and looked up at her.
“Whoa,” she breathed, letting her fingers fall from his hair as she returned her feet to the floor.
He smiled, and leant forward and kissed a slow path along the curve of her sex, to her navel—acknowledging her belly-button piercing with a playful flick of his tongue—and over her rib cage.
She moaned, knowing exactly what his destination was. Her breasts grew heavy in anticipation. Her nipples puckered.
He followed the curve of her waist with his palms, a barely there contact that made her shiver as much as his lips made her already spent sex constrict again. He spent a few languid moments brushing his lips over the underswell of her left breast and then her right.
Her nipples ached with need, harder than they’d ever been. An exquisite hardness waiting for his oh-so-talented mouth.
