She pulls off, eyes dark and wild, and leans into my ear. “Mm, no, baby… You don’t get to come yet. I’m not done playing with you.” Her breath is hot against my ear, her words dripping straight down my spine. All I can do is nod. “Yes, ma’am.”
She slides off her panties slowly, never breaking eye contact, then climbs up, straddling my chest, her legs framing my face. Her pussy is glistening, so fucking perfect, and I’m practically panting just looking at her.
One hand travels up her stomach to her tits, her fingers pulling at her nipples, while the other slips between her thighs. She rubs slow circles over her clit, a low moan slipping free as her head falls back, hair brushing across my cock and making me twitch beneath her.
Her hips start to buck gently, and I watch, mesmerized, as her finger disappears inside her, slick and glistening. My mouth waters, hunger clawing at my chest.
“That’s it, Stella. Play with your pretty pussy,” I groan, my body thrashing against the restraints, the ties biting into my wrists, desperate to break free and taste her.
I thrust my hips up, desperate for friction, but there’s only the brutal ache left behind.
She moans louder, fucking herself with her fingers, her breathing getting heavier. She’s close, I can see it, the way her body’s shaking, the way her hips grind harder.
“Baby girl… please. Come sit on my face. Let me eat you until you come.”
She hovers over me, still teasing herself, eyes wild and dark with something new, something wicked. Her thighs flex above me, trembling with every motion of her fingers.
“You really want me on your face, don’t you?” she teases, her voice thick with heat. “Beg me for it, baby.”
I groan, tugging at the ties like they’ll snap, the scent of her arousal flooding me, my mouth watering. “I’ll be your good boy, Stella. Please just let me taste your pussy.”
She smirks, watching me suffer, gaze locked on mine like she’s deciding whether I deserve it. For a second, I think she’ll make me beg harder, but then she shifts forward, crawling up my body, slow and deliberate, the heat of her seeping into my skin with every inch. The mattress dips under her weight until her thighs frame my face.
“Since you said please,” she whispers, lowering herself with a sinful roll of her hips.
The moment she settles on my mouth, I groan into her, tongue diving deep. Her heat floods me, slick and unrelenting, coating my lips and my chin. She gasps, a sound so raw and fucking honest it nearly undoes me. Her thighs clamp around my head, trembling as she grinds against my mouth: her taste, her scent, her sounds. I’ll never get enough.
She’s never been like this with me. Unguarded, wild, completely fucking radiant—and I pray I’m the only one she’ll ever let unravel her like this.
She’s mine, the only woman I’ve ever wanted, the only one I’ll ever need—and I’ll gladly drown in her to prove it.
I devour her, tongue plunging deep, then dragging up to circle her clit, licking her like I’ll never get another chance. Her slick coats me, dripping down my chin, and I don’t care—I want every drop, want to breathe her, live off her. She cries out, hips grinding down harder, using my face like it’s hers to ruin, and fuck, it is.
I moan into her, the sound vibrating through her cunt, and her thighs shake around me. Every tremor, every gasp, it feels like she’s breaking me apart and remaking me in her image. She’s not just sitting on my face—she’s sitting on my soul, and I’ll gladly let her keep it.
I suck her clit into my mouth, tongue flicking fast, relentless, until she’s bucking against me, fucking herself on my face. My cock aches, leaking, throbbing, but none of it matters. Not if she’s moaning like this, not if she’s falling apart for me. I’d stay tied here forever if it means I get to be her altar, her ruin, her everything.
She breaks apart above me, trembling and gasping, flooding my mouth with everything I’ve been starving for. I hold her through it, tongue and lips relentless, because if worship has a shape, it’s this—her coming undone on my face. When she finally stills, thighs quaking around me, I know there’s nothing in this world I wouldn’t give just to feel her like this again.
Stella
I’m still catching my breath when I feel his hands—soft and careful—tracing my hips, my thighs, like I’m something precious. My legs are trembling, aftershocks still shivering through me, but there’s an ache in my chest that threatens to pull me under, sharp and unfamiliar. The tears behind my eyes burn, just waiting for permission to fall.
Where the hell did this come from? What if I pushed too far? What if he was caught up in the moment but didn’t actually enjoy it? His hands are still gentle, steadying, but it doesn’t stop the panic from gnawing at me. God, was I stupid for getting so wrapped up in a fucking sex dream?
Then his deep voice cuts through the spiral, low and sure. “You’re fucking perfect, Stella. All of you. Don’t you dare pull away from me now.”
The dam breaks. The tears I was trying to hold back come flooding out, hot, heavy, and unrelenting. Donovan sits up, resting his back against the intricate headboard. He doesn’t say anything else. He just pulls me into his lap, wrapping his arms around me while sobs wrack my body. His hands slide throughmy hair, slow and soothing, like he’s got all the time in the world to hold me together.
I don’t even know why I’m crying. I just gave the man I love everything I had to give. So why do I feel so fucking exposed?
Eventually, the tears dry up, and my body finally settles. Donovan holds me a little tighter, like he can feel the exact moment my muscles go slack. Then he shifts me gently off his lap, stands, and disappears into the en suite.
A moment later, he returns, still naked—with a warm, wet washcloth in hand. Without a word, he kneels between my legs like he’s at an altar, every careful stroke of the cloth slow and reverent. The ache between my thighs is still sharp, after I came on his tongue and then rode his cock until we both unraveled, but the warmth soothes me. His care makes the ache feel… Earned.
He discards the cloth onto the nightstand, then pulls me close to his body. I curl into his warmth and let his steady breathing lull me into a deep sleep.
I wake to Donovan’s side of the bed cold, but the smell of bacon wafts through my cracked door. I throw on pajama pants and a tank top and pad into the kitchen.
