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After a few more deep breaths, Huan bends down and picks up his towel. He wraps it around his waist and grabs another one hanging on the wall. He brings it over, opens my door, and reaches in the shower to wrap me up. Like a terry-cloth present, I’m covered, tugged forward, and lifted. In his arms, he carries me out of the bathroom and only stops when we stand in front of the bed.
“Thank you,” I utter softly.
“Touch me,” I utter, not as softly.
His arm bands across my stomach, and I pant when he hugs my covered-up body. More when he drops kisses along my neck.
My eyes keep closing. I alternate looking between the back of my eyelids and out at the sun pouring in from the window. If I see him, my knees will buckle. When he takes my neck into his mouth, my head falls backward. I see the popcorn ceiling.Before long, Huan grips the underside of my thigh. It’s lifted. My foot is braced against the mattress.
“Let’s open you. Spread your knees for me,” he says.
I do, and he takes the hem of the towel and lifts until it bunches at my waist, exposing me. I feel air on my clit. Not enough. It's a whisper of what I want.
“I’m so wet,” I complain.
“Are you?”
“You could check?”
He laughs. “Brat.”
I'm grinning and vibrating against him, my hips lifting higher up. How lewd. How improper. How-I-don't-care-just-get-up-in-there.
Very patiently, he dips a finger into my wetness. I hiss at how it gathers on his skin, getting dunked and rolled, before he brings it back to his mouth to taste. This isn't happening, my mind confidently declares. The world should end in a blaze of glory before this kind of nirvana is impossible. He makes a noiseas if my taste is very, very pleasing to him. Going down, he takes more. The sampling shifts, gets more hurried as if he's been starved. Each time gives me pleasure, spiked and then fleeting, when he pauses. I think my body is shutting down. I'm shaking. Huan is the most patient man I've ever had do this. I'm torn between tackling him and letting this sweet torture continue.
When he stops again, it's to kiss my neck.
“How do you want me to pat your pretty pussy?”
“I… I… ”
His thumb presses above my clit. I clench. He immediately switches to three fingers, massaging loose circles around the sensitive area. Now I’m sweating and quietly moaning.
“Guess I got my answer.” He chuckles again, his cock grinding against the back of my towelled thigh like he can’t help it. “What I’ve been wondering,” he whispers, “is how many of my fingers you’ll take.”
“Test me,” I pant. “Don’t go easy on me.”
“But Komal, you are the one person I want to go easiest on.”
We’re carnal, my hips are out of the towel, my leg lasciviously up, and his hand is owning my mound, but somehow he makes it sweet. What a sucker punch. I’ve got no defences when he talks like this.
I can’t stop myself from saying, “I feel safe. I feel like I can not think. You make me wild. With you,I forget all my rules.”
Now he knows I heard him last night. I know he knows because Huan lets out a desperate curse. Then he plunges a finger inside me. I whimper, especially when a second finger joins the first. Everything inside me quivers as he moves in and out.
“I feel so good, and I’m trying to come, but I don’t know, and it feels so good, and?—”
“Komal, I’ll do this all day as long as you feel good. Come or not come, gorgeous. As long as you feel good, I'm not stopping.”
If there was an insecurity about time and effort, and needing to come before he tires, Huan has vanquished it. He doesn’t say things he doesn’t mean.
“But,” he says, “if you need to be pushed, I'll help you escape that mind of yours. We’re going to have you let go, gorgeous.”
I’ve closed my eyes by this point, head dropped back on his shoulder, face tilted up. I’vealmostforgotten to think, but Icanthink, and I do think. How does he know?
So long I’ve policed my actions, and now I’m policing my passion.
He insists, “Make your noises,” as he curls his finger, trying to find how I love it best… except my suppressed moans aren’t enough to go by.
