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He ran out of glass under his fingers, but kept moving through the air, in exactly the same way. Her face changed, her eyes widened, her eyebrows shot up. She’d worked out where he was heading, saw his trajectory. She felt it. She wasn’t wearing her apron, just a black, floaty skirt, above her knee. If he kept going his fingers would skim…
And they did. He stood right in front of her now, slightly turned away, his index and middle finger brushed over her clit, over her skirt and panties. Her breath hitched. He held her gaze. A warm amber green. He tapped. Lightly. As if he had his fingers against the glass still and he was indicating which ice cream he wanted and not her clit. Her clit that was throbbing, and hot underneath his touch, through her panties and skirt.
He had chosen. He knew what he wanted to taste. Her.
She took a breath in, her gaze trapped in his. She was blissfully completely caught up in him. And he’d never felt happier. “So you do want… I was beginning to doubt…”
Fuck it.
He was going to be greedy.
He was going to take what he wanted. He was going to banish her doubt.
He hand tapped her clit again, and her face flamed. He moved quickly, not wanting either of them to overthink this, to second guess this, it was pure spur of the moment greed. His hand pulled at her little floaty skirt, diving under, he followed her thigh, until his fingers hit cotton. Warm, wet cotton. He peeled the cotton to the side with those two fingers, and when he had enough flesh uncovered, he plunged his fingers in.
And sweet mother of God, was it perfect.
So soft, so warm, so wet. His fingers felt utter perfection. Her silken velvet core welcomed him. Her eyes had widened and her pupils had dilated, a tiny hissed breath escaped her lips, but she stood still, in front of him, letting him touch her.
He curled his fingers a little inside her and she hissed again, and his jaw went slack as he withdrew his hand. A little crease appeared in between her eyebrows, but she said nothing. He didn’t stop, he brought his fingers down, careful not to touch her thighs or skirt, and brought them straight up to his face.
Her eyes widened, and they both peered at his fingers. Wet, sticky, coated. She let out a small gurgle in her throat and Phantom opened his mouth wide and put his fingers inside. Sucking deeply.
Fuck yes.
He tasted her. She exploded on his tongue, a warm, sweet tang of life and love and humanity. The very taste of want itself.
And he was hooked.
He wanted to feast on her until he got brain freeze and was sick.
He immediately dragged his hand out of his mouth and went in for a second scoop.
And he was shortly back in heaven again, his fingers gripped in her hot little cunt but then- fuck, he almost stuttered.
Her hands yanked at the buttons on his jeans, too, ruffled his briefs out the way. Fuck. He couldn’t stop her, he couldn’t pull away, his hand was trapped in her vise-like grip. Her hand gripped his cock roughly and squeezed.
He was very hard, and he looked down to see her thumb on his slit, scooping up a droplet of his pre-cum. Fuck, she was just as depraved as he was. She was fucking perfect. His Sugar Plum Fairy wanted a taste of him, too.
Her fingers lingered a little, he could see she was curious about his piercing. She lightly flicked it with her middle finger, causing him to shiver. But then she withdrew her hand, and Phantom collected his melted brain enough to withdraw his hand, and they both watched each other as they raised their hands to their lips and tasted each other.
Her gaze was leaden as thunder. Her tongue flicked out at the droplet on her thumb nail, and she collected it on the tip of her tongue. Then brought it into her mouth. He again simply sucked the full length of both his two fingers into his mouth again. Her flavor on his tongue at the exact moment his flavor was on hers. She smiled and blinked lazily and purred.
Fuck him sideways, she liked it.
He looked into her eyes then, deeply, as if he wanted to pass her a hidden message.
She blinked back at him, not understanding, letting the silence hang, letting it do the heavy lifting.
“Phantom… I like you, but I need to know what you want from me. If it’s friendship, fine, if it’s something more… I kind of felt like you wanted more…I know we already… but that was just a one time thing, unless… I’d like that… again… but I need you to give me a sign, give me something back, or if you are just here for the ice cream, then that is fine, too…”
She carried on, slightly out of breath. “We’ve barely talked or gotten to know each other, I’d like to do that more... I mean, I get that you don’t talk right now, I won’t push it, don’t worry… I want to get to know you a little bit… I can’t help but wonder… I mean, I’m just… me… I know vanilla isn’t to everyone’s taste and I’d bet the big bucks that you are used to something more... exotic than vanilla.”
He looked at her. He didn’t nod, he didn’t say anything, he just looked with those heavy, bottomless brown eyes.
“Yes, I also need to know if I could take something… fruitier than I’d normally choose to. You’ll notice there is no rum raisin ice cream on my counter for a reason… you need to decide if you like vanilla…” she trailed off.
But then, the door rattled.
