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The embarrassment began to fade away when I saw his genuine appreciation of my response to him. The next noise that came, I didn’t bother worrying about it, just groaned and writhed and shuddered through his every caress as he tongued my slit in a manner that had his face gleaming with my arousal.
Then, when he used his fingers to pull apart my labia and it exposed my clit, I cried out when his mouth returned to the nub, and, as I quaked beneath him, aware that the most sensitive part of me was exposed now, he gently sucked on it before palpating the tiny nub with his tongue.
All thoughts faded.
Nervous ones, anxious ones, embarrassed ones—gone.
Like that.
As if they never existed in the first place.
Eyelashes fluttering, I urged myself into sitting up some, leaning on my elbows so I could watch.
“Such a good fucking girl.”
Moaning, I took in our size as his words filtered into my consciousness.
I was so small in comparison to him. His shoulders took up a lot of room between my thighs, especially now that he’d settled into place for the long haul, andwhat a long haul it was.
“So fucking good. You like what I do to you, baby girl?”
“Y-Yes. So much. T-Thank you, James.”
“You’re fucking drenched.” He slurped on my clit. “Andyou taste like heaven.”
One of my hands, of its own volition, scraped over his head, digging into the slight waves of his hair. I didn’t realize I was doing it, guiding him where it felt best, but he let me be bossy, mumbling soft words against my cunt that had me dying right then and there.
“I love that you know what you want. All this is for me.”
A sharp cry escaped me.
“MaryCat, you’re my good girl. You take what you need, baby. You take it and make it your own.”
I shuddered each time he spoke, and with every statement, he took away more nerves that surged into being when I worried I was taking too long to come. He didn’t care, so why should I?
Then, his tongue thrust into my slit again and he started to stroke delicate flesh.
The nerves were raw, the flesh sore from his attentions.
It felt… uncomfortable.
And he knew.
Immediately pulling away, he muttered against my clit, “You’re going to come for me like a good girl, MaryCat. I ain’t gonna stop until you coat my lips and jaw in your cum, you hear me?”
The imagery combined with his tongue’s lashing of the tender nub had me sobbing, “I-I hear you.”
God, did he know how his words drove me to distraction?
An urge hit me—I flopped onto my back and then allowed my legs to rock upward so that the front of my thighs were against my belly. Then, I slipped my hands around my feet in a yoga pose that was great for stretching out the hamstrings and lowering the heart rate—I needed that because he was going to put me into cardiac arrest.
Suddenly, I was there.
I didn’t know if it was the shift in position, the fact I could kind of see the artist at work or his tongue’s wicked skills. Hell, maybe it was a combination of all three.Whatever. I was there and I was going to die and it felt so good and it was too good and oh. My. God!
My fingers clenched around my toes as I strained toward release, a release he gave me so generously. It pummeled me, had pleasure zipping around my being. Only, he didn’t stop once I’d come. No, he doubled down by flicking his tongue along my sex.
I knew what he was doing too.
