“You fucking heard me.”
And God help me because I’m actually considering it. I want him, and the tension between us is too much at this point. If we’re going to make it through this arrangement, we could probably both benefit from getting off. But climbing in his lap seems way too dangerous with his hip.
“If I do that it’s gonna put pressure on your hip.”
He smirks, and his eyes flick over me.
“I don’t mean ride my lap, sweetheart. I mean my face.”
Oh.
“Strip down and climb up here.” He lets go of my wrist and pats the stack of pillows he’s resting against.
“I don’t have that kind of balance.”
“That’s what the headboard’s for.” He glances back at it and then dark eyes fall on me. “Get up here.”
I take a step back from the bed, questioning my sanity and his.
“I think maybe you should just—”
“You should just get naked and get up here.Now.” The way he says it turns my entire body into a warm quivering mess, and I unbutton and unzip my jeans while he watches. Sliding them and my panties off.
I take a tentative step forward and he clicks his tongue and shakes his head.
“All of it off. I want to see every inch of you.”
I slip my shirt off over my head and let it fall to the chair, reaching behind to undo my bra and slipping it off too. His eyes land hard on my breasts, and he reaches under the blanket to stroke himself.
“Fuck your breasts are so perfect. All of you really.” He closes his eyes as he takes another long stroke. “Get up here, Spitfire. I need you to come on my face for me. I want you so fucking wet you’re dripping down my chin. You do that for me, I’ll make sure you come harder than you have in your life.” A promise he’s already made good on before. It’s also the first time he’s called me by my nickname since I’ve been here, which I’ll take as a good sign.
I climb onto the bed, kneeling next to his shoulder and hesitating. This was not a position I ever considered attempting with my general clumsiness but now I don’t want to let him down. But I’m also terrified of hurting him. So I carefully move my leg over as his hand slides along my thigh to help guide me, and I hold onto the headboard as tight as I can to keep from losing my balance as the pillows shift underneath us.
“Fuck,” I whisper as I nearly slip.
He catches me though, his arms wrapping around my legs. I spread wider to get into a more comfortable position and then I feel a whisper of self-consciousness. He senses it and pulls me toward him, his tongue sliding over me with just enough contact to tease.
I moan and press my forehead against the headboard.
“Now ride me.” He grabs my ass, and I buck forward, grazing over his mouth. The stubble on his cheeks scratches the insides of my thighs, and I love the sensation. I roll my hips again.
“Ride. Me. Like you actually fucking want my mouth, Spitfire.”
“I just don’t want to hurt you.”
“Then don’t make me beg any more than I already have.”
I know what he means, what he needs. To feel wanted again. To feel like he’s still worthy. To feel like he’s something other than broken and hurting. To know a woman can’t stop fantasizing about him even when he is miserable and lashing out because of it. And that much I can give him if he needs it.
I rock forward and his lips and tongue slide over every nerve ending I have, lighting them up in the perfect order. I can feel my stomach twist and the first little sparks of pleasure tease my clit. I’d already been wet for him just from seeing him half naked in the bed with his hand on his cock. But now between my legs like this, begging for me to ride him, it’s making me soak his lips and chin just like he asked.
He pulls back for a moment, catching a breath before his lips slide over my clit and he sucks, softly at first and then slowly teasing more and more pressure until I’m moaning for him while I slam my palm against the headboard. He lets go just before I come, and I whimper at the loss.
“Holy fuck.” He takes a breath of air and then takes me in his mouth again, his tongue dancing over the tiny bundle of nerves. I dig my hands into his hair, twisting my fingers into the dirty blond, and writhe over his mouth as one of his hands grips my legs. I glance over my shoulder and see him fisting his cock out of the corner of my eye.
“Tobias, please. Let me come, so I can finish you with my mouth.” I have to stop to gasp for air just to get the sentence out, and he groans his agreement. That touch of extra vibration takes me so close to the edge that I have to white-knuckle the headboard.
“I’m so close. Please,” I whimper, and he digs his fingers into my thigh dragging me down tighter onto his mouth. He sucks hard and his tongue strokes over my clit until I cry out and come hard against his lips.
