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She was as lost as I was.
I fell onto her. The sharp bite of nails in the back of my head only spurred me on. This was what I wanted. Her harshness, the force of her. She was using me for her own pleasure, and I loved it.
I sucked her, gently at first, alternating between sucking and licking, pushing my tongue into her again, nursing her, soaking in her taste. I didn’t want to be too rough, even though she’d almost killed me before. She used to yelp in the past whenever I bit her clit.
Cat pulled my hair, craning my head back to get into my face. The muscles of my neck screamed in protest as she forced me to meet her eyes.
“I said. Suck. My. Clit,” she growled, shoving me back to her.
I sighed in pleasure, biting her clit before wrapping my lips around her and pulling, drinking her, bullying her towards an orgasm.
She was the most romantic woman I’d ever met. No one else had ever shown me their love as strongly as she did.
I needed every part of me covered in her scent to know I was hers. The sounds she made were mine, the way her back arched and curled. Breathy moans kept escaping her lips, her fingers tensing and softening in my hair and around the earrings. It was all mine.
She led me, carrying me forward. I never wanted this to end. It felt like she was rushing towards the edge, racing with me to reach her orgasm. This was it. It was all for her. Another hard suck and she groaned deeply.
“I’m going to come. Max. Make me come.”
I could never say no to her. Back to lazy licks, slow draws around her clit, my tongue meandering to the base of her entrance and further down to the soft mound between her ass cheeks, relishing her gasp of surprise before retracing the journey to torture her clit with whisper-soft kisses, keeping her on the edge until she was crying out. One more hard pull, working the small bundles of nerves until she choked and shuddered, clasping her thighs around me as she surrendered to pleasure.
“Max, please, there, don’t stop. God, please, don’t stop.”
It was the sweetest tune she could have sung. She exploded, calling my name, a song only I could hear. I took a risk, knowing I would pay for it. I released my hands and sank two fingers into her, pushing through her tightness as her orgasm subsided, bringing her over again. Her hips thrust into my fingers, and I took her knee, pulling her closer, getting deeper, and twisting my wrist as I rose, taking in the view, giving me a better angle to work her clit raw with my tongue. Cat came apart around me, her eyes closed, her voice bouncing around the bathroom. She released my head and gripped my shirt, clinging to me. The tight walls of her pussy clamped my fingers until I could barely move. Her heels were destroying my shoulders, but I didn’t care.
I did everything I could to capture the moment, licking her until I’d wrung the last of her pleasure from her body, deeply inhaling, my gaze roving over her, her cries still strong in my ears. This was what made everything worth it. Those years spent pining for her, the endless pit of darkness, all of it.
She glared at me as tremors racked her body, slumping back against the cabinet, unable to move. All she could do was scowl as I nuzzled her pussy, praising her. I rubbed my nose through her folds, relishing her softness, the fluttering quake of her muscles tight around my fingers, and how wet she was for me. I savoured the aftershocks of her orgasm as she threw silent accusations my way. Her cheeks flushed, eyes red, her chest heaving, she looked angry and sated. It was all thanks to me; I had made her like that.
Her clit, her entrance, the soft folds containing her essence — it was all perfection. I wanted to stay inside her forever, soak her essence into my skin so I could always taste her on the tips of my fingers, but she was coming down. Her anger was returning, and she was ready to blow.
I eased out of her, loving how her pussy clasped onto me, begging me to stay. As I freed myself from her grasp, I lifted my fingers to my mouth, my tired tongue greedily licking her wetness. Holding her stare, I basked in her spiteful glow as I made her see how much I lived for this taste.
She kicked me away, and I fell back to my knees as she pushed herself back up on the cabinet.
“Enough of that, you’ve had your fill.” As if I could ever grow tired of her, like I would ever want to stop. “Get out,” she spat at me as she rearranged herself, pushing the hem of the dress down and fluffing her tousled hair.
I froze, fear spiking through me.
She couldn’t be serious.
Hadn’t she felt it too?
She gave herself to me in a moment of complete trust, and I fulfilled her. I gave her everything she wanted, and now she was telling me to leave?
It had to be a punishment, another part of our love story. It was her romance — the push and pull — bringing me close, then throwing me away. She was only doing this to make the next time sweeter. That was it, right? Just a setup for the next time.
Didn’t she see how badly I wanted to kiss her? To share her taste so she could see how I felt when I licked her? Her sweetness, her musk, it blended so easily with my lips that it was a goddamn delicacy, and she wanted me to leave without that?
I stood, looking down at her. “Are you serious?”
She had almost finished rearranging herself. One more adjustment, slipping those fucking beads back across her pussy, and she was perfect. She could leave and join the party like nothing had happened. The only hint that she’d had my face pushed against her clit was the red tint to her cheeks. Easy to cover up with the amount of champagne being passed around tonight.
What about me? Would she let me walk out there with her cum smeared across my face like war paint, or did she want to hide this? If I didn’t care so fucking much about her image, I’d run out there now and shove Dom’s face in it, show him how deep I shook her with my tongue and two fingers.
“We have nothing else to say to each other. Leave.” Something flashed in her eyes as she replied.
Vulnerability? Caution? It was gone in an instant, replaced by disdain. She straightened her spine and crossed her legs. The same elegance she held when she first greeted me in her office. She was unruffled. Nothing could get past her, or so it seemed.
