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“Can you stop talking? The point is to be silent.” If he doesn’t stop speaking in that gravelly voice, I’ll lose. It’s audio porn.
I part my thighs, and he stares for an uncomfortably long moment. I can’t tell what he’s thinking. He urges me back so I’m lying flat on the table, then massages his palms up and down my inner thighs.
“No hands,” I rasp.
“You said no fingers, I’m going to touch you with my hands.” The air is cool on my wet flesh; I hope he doesn’t see how turned on I am. If he would have stayed quiet, I might’ve still had the upper hand.
“That doesn’t even make sense, y—”
“You know what else doesn’t make sense? How wet you are already. Freya, you are—”Damn it.
“Shut up.” I keep my eyes fixed on the ceiling. “First one to make noise loses.”
The atmosphere is heavy with sex and neediness.
“I’m going to make sure everybody downstairs knows what a good little slut you are,” he growls.
My breath catches, and his mouth is on my body before I get to retort. I seal my lips shut.
He starts slow with the tip of his tongue, applying feather touches to my center.This will be a cake walk.The delicate feel of his mouth on me is a welcome reminder that oral sex does nothing for me. I suppress a grin.
Propping myself up on my elbows, I raise an eyebrow, trying to look as bored as possible. He pierces me with his gaze, flattens his tongue, and licks from slit to clit. The feeling is meh, but the visual?Whoa.
My back settles on the table again.New rule. No watching.I swear I feel his lips pull into a smile. He’s so conceited. To distract myself, I try to list all the types of flour.
All-purpose, whole wheat, pastry, coconut... almond...
His pressure increases and he yanks me closer to his face.Shit.
Coconut... wait I already said that. Gluten-free...
The noise in the room pulls me from my thoughts.The sound of his mouth on me. His breathing. My breathing.It’s not loud, but it might as well be rattling the walls.
He takes a break to nip at the soft flesh on my thigh, and I hold my breath to stay silent. His nose slides up and down the apex of my thighs, giving both an equal amount of attention. Another bite. He’s touching me everywhere but where I want it.
Okay, he’smaybedecent at this.
I feel his eyes on me, but I keep mine locked on the black industrial ceiling.
Semolina... 00...
His tongue is back with an increased pressure, and my breathing becomes more shallow. If this was real foreplay and not some competition, it might get me off. Right when it starts to get good, he reverts to the feather touches from the beginning, but this time it’s not as easy to ignore. It’s this out-of-control feeling I’m not used to.
Rye... self-rising...
Normally I’m the one calling the shots, directing my partner what I like and how I like to be fucked, but in this moment, I’m forced to stay quiet and surrender to him. Endure all the sensation while I try to ride out his storm. I’ve never been submissive. I don’t know if it’s Rhys or the new experience, but this power exchange is exhilarating. I lift my feet a centimeter off the table to prevent myself from grinding against his mouth. The urge is there. He gently guides my calves to rest over his shoulders. The soft little flicks of his tongue turn into firmer, stronger licks.Rougher.
The alternating speed and pressure was premeditated. He’s becoming slightly aggressive, and it’s clear that everything until this point has been him laying the groundwork for building up my orgasm into something torrential. My lips part, and I throw my arm over my eyes, trying to focus.
Self-rising... self-rising...
He’s applying the perfect amount of tension and pressure on me. He knows exactly when to push me and when to pull back again. This feelsreallygood. His tongue sweeps along the inside of my thigh, and he nips. Then repeats on the other side. The small bites make me tremble. When he returns to my center, he latches onto my clit and sucks.
Fucking fireworks.
My body twitches, legs jerk, there’s nothing that will stop it. He’s not letting go, he doesn’t ease up. When I grab the edges of the table and squirm, the sucking builds stronger. My confidence wanes as the inevitability of my orgasm comes to light. It’s purely biological, I don’t know why I thought I could outsmart it. Everything in me is telling me to forget the stupid bet, lean into it, and milk this orgasm for everything I can. It’ll feel so incredible when it hits, just give in. If I’m gonna lose, then I’m gonna have my world rocked with a mind-blowing consolation prize. The stubborn part of me says to fight for my life and win. His tongue has to be getting tired.
Without thinking, I lean on my elbows to watch him again. His hazel gaze locks on mine, and those massive hands lift my legs off his shoulders and lay them back on the table, holding my thighs open wider. He looks so fucking hungry.
