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“Nervous. Wondering if you will like it?” he asks, stroking my skin.
“No. Wondering if you will.”
“Baby,” he breathes. “I can guarantee I will love it. It is one of my favorite things to do. There are no words to describe the desire I have to taste you.” He closes his eyes. “Your scent is intoxicating. I smell your heat. The wetness is coating your skin. I imagine it is so soft and sweet. I’m sure you are swollen and pulsing in your need. I want to see you. Touch you.” He opens his eyes and stares into mine. “You may be the one that is in heat, but I am the one that craves your sweet juice coating my throat.”
I think I just came.
I gulp back the saliva pooling in my mouth. He is so dirty.
I want him to make me dirty.
“I want this,” I state.
“You’re sure?” he asks.
“Yes.” I nod.
“Do as I said then.” The softness that was in his tone is gone. He’s gruff and hard as he demands.
It hits a secret, dark place inside me. My fantasies have come to life and are lying in front of me. Why wouldn’t I want to fulfill them?
He waits for me to make the first move. When I move over him, my knee rising to get into position, his hands grip my hips to help guide me.
I find my head hovering over his stomach, not sure what to do.
When his lips ghost over my inner thigh, I forget about everything except the need for him to ease the heat.
He moves slowly, kissing closer and closer. He softly separates my lips. His tongue laps up the wetness already covering me, and a gasp of surprise leaves me. His cock jerks closer to my mouth. I wrap my hand around him, feeling the steel that's all for me.
“Fuck, you are so sweet,” he growls.
The vibration from it causes me to leak more.
My hand unconsciously tightens as he suddenly pulls me roughly down. My thighs widen until there is no space between us.
He consumes me.
I throw my head back.
This is everything.
His warm mouth. His tongue. The suction.
Holy fuck.
I want this every day for the rest of my life. The sensations he demands from my body are something I never thought I would happily give to the right man. My desire is almost overwhelming in intensity. So much so, I almost forget about the cock I hold in my hand.
I turn my attention back to him. I have to give him as much pleasure as he is giving me. I stroke lightly, experimentally. Again. And again. Gaining speed and rhythm that soon matchedthe thrust of his tongue. I revel in the moans coming from him. My thumb brushes over the tip with every slide.
“Lick,” he snarls against me.
Yes. I want a taste, too.
I lightly curl my tongue over the head and earn a drop of his pleasure.
At the same time, his tongue enters me as deep as he can and brings me to the edge of exploding.
“Elijah,” I pant.
