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Lapping, nipping, teasing with my teeth and tongue, I make my kitten writhe and wriggle, climbing higher as she chases her orgasm. Her hips angle so she’s clamping my face against her, but I pull back.
“Thor!” Her frustrated roar echoes around the small space.
Grinning up at her, her arousal trickles down my chin. “What’s the matter, kitten?”
“You’re going to regret calling me that when I claw your eyes out. Let me fucking come.”
I wag a finger at her, satisfaction seeping through my veins. “Ah, ah. We aren’t learning our lesson here, are we?”
“What lesson is—aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh?”
Shoving my face back between her legs, I slide two fingers inside her pressing them against her G spot. “Check in.”
“Green.” Her chest heaves with panting breaths.
“Good. Say you’re perfect.”
She growls but doesn’t answer. Pressing my fingers more firmly against the sensitive spot on her front walls, she moans. “P-p-please, Thor.”
“I told you what you need to say to get what you need.”
A pained groan rattles through her body, and for a beat I’m convinced she’ll capitulate and give in. I should know better. She throws her head back onto the seat, clamping her mouth shut.
This is the moment she’s going to regret.
I spend the next twenty minutes driving her to senselessness. Pushing her closer and closer to orgasm, but keeping her just on the wrong side of release.
Sweat streams down her face, the pillow under her ass is drenched, her legs tremble so hard she likely couldn’t support her own weight if she were to stand, and her demands and pleas fall on deaf ears.
“Check in.”
“Yellow.”
“Say you’re perfect as you are.” I rub my thumb in circles around her clit while I wait for her response. It’s a two steps forward one step back dance we know the steps to at this point.
She covers her face with her forearm. “I’m perfect as I am.” The words are mumbled quietly against her skin, and it’s not enough. I pinch her clit, making her squeal.
“Louder, kitten.” I put my mouth back over her clit, trusting she’s going to give me what I need and maneuvering her toward what she needs too.
“I’m perfect as I am.” Her voice is raw from screaming, from pleading with me to let her come, from yelling at me that I’m a prick and an asshole, but she says it loudly and clearly. Not only that, but she repeats it, or most of it before she falls over the edge into blissful release.
She squirts all over my face as her nails cut into my scalp. If she doesn’t draw blood I’ll be shocked. Her thighs lock as best they can with her legs still cuffed to the chair, and her spine curves into a deep bend as she lets herself go.
A long drawn-out orgasm rolls through her body making it quiver and shake, making her muscles twitch and her eyes roll back in her head. I feel the waves crashing through her as my tongue presses against her salty-sweet pussy, demanding more.
Now that she’s come for me, I want more, need more.
I need it all.
There’s no comparison. Making this woman come for me, making her feel so good she can’t control herself is everything. And I can’t explain how content and satisfied it makes me feel while I do it.
Relentless lashes of my tongue against her swollen and sensitive clit make her scream and wriggle on the chair, but she can’t escape. This is her punishment for not acquiescing to what I told her to say, when I told her to say it.
She’s going to come so hard, so fast, and so often that her essence leaves her body. I’m going to suck her very soul out of her clit.
“Stop, Thor. St-stop. I c-ca-cant.”
When I don’t stop, she screams through a second orgasm, with a third close behind. Or perhaps the second just lasts for a while, either way I don’t give a fuck. I live for her screams, for the taste of her cum as it squirts into my face, and for the way her body sags when she thinks she’s done.
