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“You have no idea what true need is, sweetheart.” Theodore blows warm air across the sensitive skin and goose bumps rise across my flesh, my breasts heaving. The tip of his tongue traces my right breast, nipping my nipple before giving the same treatment to the left. “How long I’ve denied myself. How long I’ve been patient and waiting.”
“Tell me.”
“Not yet,” he hisses out before tearing the near nonexistent material covering my chest, the small triangle dangling from his teeth. Theodore takes the fabric in his hand and puts the piece in a back pocket before biting the underside of both breasts, dragging his tongue across each before following the path down the center to my mound.
There he pauses with eyes closed and lip caught between his teeth.
He breathes in deeply and holds it.
His cheek rubs across the wet, bare skin above my clit and shivers.
This beautiful, strong, and at times demanding man trembles above me as if holding on to a control that’s slipping. As if he’s teetering on the edge, his face contorted in a reverent pain, and damn me if that doesn’t cause another rush of wetness to coat my lips.
“Theo, I—”
“Say it again. Call me that again.”
“Theo.”
“Fuck,” he snarls against my flesh, his mouth moving to where he hovers, and those eyes hold my stare. I can’t close my eyes or look away. I can’t move or plead. All I’m able to do is watch as his pink tongue touches my clit, a feather-light caress, and cry out as pleasure seizes my every nerve ending.
He holds it there. Pressing a little more firmly with each tick of the clock until his lips part and he’s sucking my tender flesh between his teeth. The sharp suction makes my eyes roll back, an action he doesn’t like, and lands a smack to my thigh. It’s loud, the sting landing right where his tongue is worshipping, licking me from my trembling bundle of nerves to my clenching entrance and back again, before sucking my lips and drawing them out.
Theodore is hungry, a deep rumbling groan escaping as he dips the tip of his tongue inside me. Lapping. Biting. Sucking until my lower body rises off the couch and moves against his mouth.
“Don’t move.” The hold on my hips tightens, pinning me down, but I only fight harder. Angry at being kept in place when all I want to do is ride his mouth. To do what my body is begging me to do naturally—seek my own release using him—but his denial is a double-edged sword. “You taste like Heaven and sent from Hell. Which one are you, sweet girl? My prize or my incarceration?”
How words and actions turn me on while simultaneously pissing me off.
But then he’s circling my clit with a building pressure, light at first and then harshly, dragging the flat of his tongue until my stomach clenches and I fist the cushions. All thoughts leave my mind. Nothing but his scent and touch exist. There’s a heat rising through me. This electric feeling as he releases one hip and brings a single finger to my entrance.
He circles the opening, toying with me while his mouth never ceases his attack on my clit. Flicking, nipping, sucking it between his lips while moving his head from side to side. And I’m thrashing, my whimpers turning into screams while my thighs squeeze around his head. It’s an action he doesn’t approve of, and when he pulls back and shakes his head at me while four fingers smack my pussy, I nearly pass out.
Then he does it again.
A total of four times, and I’m a sweaty panting mess. Wet. So wet it drips from my entrance to rosebud and onto the couch.
“Theo, I’m so close. Just a little...fuck!”
“That’s my girl,” he coos as my orgasm slams into me and I scream, my eyes rolling back while I lose control of my body. I’m crying, tears gathering at the corners of my eyes while he continues his assault, never pausing to let me breathe. He eats me through each shiver, through each hard clench of my walls, and right when the waves begin to ebb and small aftershocks remain, he slips his finger back in and fucks me with hard, punishing strokes while pinning my body with his own. “Give me one more.”
“But what about you?” He hasn’t come and is still in his clothes. Doesn’t he want to—
“My pleasure lies in pleasing you,” he grits out, chest vibrating from the guttural sound. “And right now is all about you, Gabriella. What I need from you.”
“Oh, God...I...Theo!”
“Again, Gabriella.” He curls the finger inside me, and I seize mid aftershock, my muscles coiling tight while a strange pressure mounts. It’s building rapidly and my eyes widen because it feels like I need to pee, but when I try to push his hands away, Theo pins both of mine in one of his over my head. “Don’t. Just give me one more.”
“I-I think I need to—”
“Let go, beautiful. Show me how that pretty pussy squirts.”
“I don’t know how!”
“You have no choice,” he growls out and presses harder, the palm of his hand connecting with my sensitive clit. The sensation is new and scary but damn him, it feels amazing in the most perverse way and when he adds a second finger, I’m gone.
I’m overwhelmed by this electrifying rush of pleasure that overtakes every cell in my body and then the release. It’s an explosion, a hard shock to my system that ends with me sobbing—shaking—while his pants and shirt are soaked in me.
