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“Cocoa butter,” I tell him, panting as his kiss chases the path his tongue has marked.
His discovery of me grows bolder, venturing across the tight muscle of my stomach, not stopping until he reaches the part of me that misses the skilled circling of his thumb. His arms scoop underneath me, curving back around my hips, his fingertips grasping the soft flesh of my thighs. I know what comes next, my body knows, but no memory on Earth can come close to the experience of Rowan and hisverymemorable talents.
His warm-honey tongue glides between my thighs, savoring the first slow, tantalizing taste. And the point that I’ve been simmering at since he first swept me into his arms finally spills over, melting away the last inhibitions and nerves I might’ve had. I arch back, writhing on the bed, grasping handfuls of the covers as he works his magic, teasing fast and slow with his tongue, listening to the vibrations and sounds of what he’s conjuring inside me, learning and remembering what surges me up to that fever pitch of euphoria.
But he doesn’t neglect the rest of me, his hands smoothing up the tight line of my stomach, the curves of my waist, the swell of my breasts, tingling the dips below my hips, caressing as much of me as he can so his lips can follow later. It’s almost like there’s more than one of him, tending to every part of me. And I’m dizzy with the delicious attention.
I buck my hips as he curls his tongue and sucks gently, my body crying out for him. He hears the call, his fingertips returning to where they’re wanted most, and as his tongue sucks a second time, so tender yet so powerful, he eases his fingers inside me… and I almost vanish in the drowning tide of pleasure that engulfs me. Not quite an orgasm, but skirting the edges of one, tormenting me in the best way possible, guiding me to the brink of ecstasy and holding me there until I can’t bear it anymore. I don’t know how he’s doing it, but I’m not complaining. Not yet. I might if I don’t tip over the edge soon, but… for now, I can walk that tightrope with him.
Man, did I miss this; I didn’t realize how much.
The rest of the world melts into the Mississippi heat, leaving Rowan and me at the core, making magic, healing old aches in this bedroom I used to cherish. His tongue and his touch are my remedy, and it’s not long before I’m calling out his name like a spell, weaving my hope for the future into the tapestry of the air. With the circling of his skilled tongue, he finally releases me, and I am only too happy to fall.
“Yes, Rowan! Like that… Yes!” Ecstasy, when it comes, is like a wrecking ball, pummeling through every part of me that his talented tongue and gifted touch has stacked up like a house of cards. Every spark and nudge toward the edge of euphoria was another layer, another level, another row of untold bliss, and now it’s all coming down in one mind-blowing detonation that rumbles through me, leaving me gasping and limp on the bed. My eyes close, my hands tear at the sheets, and my limbs are like jelly, trembling with the adrenaline he’s poured into my veins with his unyielding attentions.
I can barely move as Rowan retraces the map made by his tongue and his kisses, making his way back up to my lips. He must know what he’s done to me, because there’s a grin on his mouth as he kisses me slowly, his thumb grazing my cheek, the weight of him pressing against me as he moves between my thighs, tormenting me once again as he pauses exactly where I want him. After all, that’s the beauty of a house of cards; it can be rebuilt, and I know a very gifted architect. If he can make me shake and tremble and transport me to another world with just his tongue and touch, I can’t even imagine what he can do with the part I’ve yet to explore. And the press of him against me is a request for permission, readily given… until I remember one thing.
“Do you have anything?” I ask, starkly sobered from my pleasure rush.
He frowns down at me; his eyes widening a moment later. “I think so.” He pulls back. “Stay where you are. Stay exactly like that, looking exactly like that. Don’t move a muscle.”
He clambers off the bed and runs back into the living room. I hear him darting about and a smile tugs at the corners of my lips, picturing him frantically searching for a condom. Leaning over to the bedside table where I used to keep them, I open the drawer and fish around, finding what I need at the very back. To my relief, it hasn’t expired.
Just then, Rowan sprints back in, wearing a devastated expression. “I don’t have—”
I hold up the foil packet. “Found one.”
“Thank God!” he whoops, bringing a laugh to my throat as he leaps back over to me. “I thought the universe was playing a cruel trick on me.”
I shake my head and hand him the packet. “Looks like it’s on our side.”
I’m not lying, either. It really does feel like fate is on my side, allowing me the second chance that I’ve racked up the points for. Although, I can’t deny that it has played a few games with us, stopping my message from getting through this morning. Then again, if he’d come by this morning, I’m not sure we’d be where we are now, so maybe fate knows what I need and when I need it, far better than I do.
Rowan dips his head and catches my mouth with his, crushing a fierce kiss to my lips as he moves against me, giving me a taste of what’s to come. And as he reels back again, ripping open the foil square, the crinkle of the packet is Pavlovian, stoking the fires of desire that the brief pause cooled for a moment.
I entangle myself in him as he returns to my arms; my legs wrapping around his waist, holding him there so I can’t second guess myself or let the fear creep in. So far, it’s still deep below the ocean surface, lost to the sea floor, gathering sand. But I don’t want to take the risk of it reappearing, so I cling onto my own life raft, determined to let it take me to new, safe shores where I can be free.
“Oh… my God.” My breath hitches at the press of him, back where he was, back where I want him… and there’s nothing standing in our way now.
He pauses for a teasing moment, gazing down at me. I swallow thickly, tilting my hips up, refusing to be tormented—however blissfully—for a moment longer. His brow creases, his breath snagging in his throat as I draw him into me, and I can’t resist a smile as he dips his head and catches my mouth with his, kissing me hard as a moan rumbles in the back of his throat.
It's like coming back to life as he slowly sinks deeper inside me, both of us gasping as if we’ve only just learned to breathe, together. His arms slide under me, cradling me, his lips finding mine again and again, whispering his desire as we move as one, uncovering the rhythm of two bodies joined in unison. There are awkward moments when we’re out of time with one another, but that only makes it feel more… perfect when we find our stride again, matching each other.
Soon enough, we’re entirely in harmony, listening to one another, making love like it’s a dance and not a fight. When he slows, I slow. When he quickens, I quicken. And in those moments of stillness, where he pauses to gather himself, I take over, circling my hips and drawing him in and out. Once he moves again, my hips rise to meet every thrust of his, my fingertips careful to pay attention to the rest of him: running my palms down his rippling back, gripping his powerful arms, digging my fingernails into his flesh, leaving faint lines. My lips savor his throat, his neck, his shoulders, his arms, his mouth, while my tongue tastes the sweet salt of his skin, relishing every part of him.
“Is that… Do you like that?” Rowan growls, his voice throaty as he scoops my legs up onto his shoulders and leans in, every stroke plunging deeper than before. But it’s the way he moves his hips, striking up an intense friction against the most explosive core of my pleasure, that has me teetering on the brink again. He knows what he’s doing. Hereallydoes.
I can’t even answer his question and that, in itself, is the answer he’s looking for. He fills up every part of me, the measured strokes ascending me to a different world, where I’m a creature of light and power and joy. So, I let my body speak for me, arching my back, unleashing moans of pleasure that are perfectly in sync with his rasping breaths and stifled groans of held-back euphoria.
But he’s not done yet, and I’m eager for every surprise he can show me.
His fingertips move to that sensitive center, strumming with the precision of a musician playing his most beloved instrument. My slow climb to the peak of my bliss fast forwards, until I’m pounding up to that precipice, opening my arms wide to leap off and fly.
“Fuck… oh… oh, fuck! Rowan… oh my god, Rowan!” I scream his name, rattling the rafters and putting the chorus of cicadas to shame. My hands ball into fists, twisting the blankets, my body seizing as euphoria bolts through me: a lightning strike, more powerful than anything that has gone before.
There’s a wildfire in my bones, in my blood, in every muscle, every sinew, every inch of skin, and I don’t want anyone to come and put it out. The heat is intense, and there’s a minute where I can’t breathe, my legs shaking violently with the force of my orgasm.
I’m so engulfed by my own pleasure that I’m only vaguely aware of Rowan quickening his pace, each stroke adding a pulse of electricity to the extreme current that’s still charging through me.
