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He releases me and leans up, maneuvering my arm to hold my dress up again.
“If you drop your dress, we start over,” he promises. Part of me wants to drop it, but the majority is done waiting. Ready for more. “Hold on to it.”
I nod, crying out again when his mouth starts at the back and works its way forward. I manage to hold on to my dress, knees buckling as his tongue pulses against my clit, setting off sparks behind my eyelids.
The feel of his other hand gliding up my leg adds another layer of sensation that I’m quickly getting lost in. At the top of my thigh, he shifts inward, hand meeting mouth at the center. His tongue circles, laving and sucking at the bundle of nerves while he presses first one finger, and then two, inside.
As he moves his fingers in and out, he nibbles lightly at my clit.
“Garrett,” I whimper.
He doesn’t let up, and I can feel the orgasm building, tightening my core.
“I’m going to come,” I tell him.
He breaks suction with my clit, and traces patterns on one thigh with his fingers while his
lips press a kiss to the opposite one.
“Garrett,” I wail, the orgasm backing off. “I was so close.”
“Until you can barely stand,” he reminds me.
“But—”
I break off on a moan as his fingers slide through my folds to rub against my clit.
“Are you not enjoying yourself?” he asks.
“Noooo,” I moan as he pinches my clit between his thumb and finger. The pressure stops, and my eyes fly open. “I am.”
“Which is it?”
“Please.” I lift my hips, seeking the fingers that he teasingly keeps out of reach.
“Do you like it?”
“Yes!” Leaning my head back, I scream until it echoes off the ceiling.
His fingers return, flicking my clit.
“You know, Ames, I imagined what this would be like,” he says like he’s not kneeling at my feet. “What I couldn’t have imagined, what I never thought about, was how addictive your taste would be.”
His mouth finds me again, and his fingers shift back. First one and then another again, and it’s like I’m experiencing deja vu. Only this time his fingers curl upward, and my right leg buckles. His left hand tightens, pinning me to the wall.
“God, yes, Garrett.” I can feel the orgasm barreling toward me.
Clamping my lips shut, I force myself to stay quiet I because look where talking got me last time. I can’t handle the torture of his fingers not finishing what they start again. But it doesn’t matter. How he knows the split second to stop, I have no idea. But he does.
My nipples ache and my pussy cries foul at being deprived—again.
“Garrett.” I almost release my dress and yank him by his hair back to me so he can finish what he fucking started, but a quirk of his brow stops me.
“Remember what I said.”
If I drop my dress, he starts over. I tug the dress closer to my body, and he nods in approval. Who is he and how did I not know he existed? He may be the one on his knees, but I’m under his control.
“I need to come,” I tell him. I can’t rub my thighs together with the way he’s situated between them.
