I shimmy out of my leggings and underwear, so that I’m completely naked while he’s fully dressed, sitting there on the floor in front of me like a king on his throne.
His eyes are level with my peaked nipples, his thighs like tree trunks spread beneath me, his shoulders blocking out the firelight. Even seated, he dominates.
His gaze drags over my breasts, his eyes darkening as my nipples tighten under his scrutiny.
“Stay still.” His command vibrates through my bones.
Then he leans in--
Holy fuck.
His mouth feels like wildfire on my soaking clit. There are no tentative licks. He literallydevours.
His tongue transforms from broad and flat to pointed and ruthless, mapping every swollen fold.
I gasp, digging my fingers into his shoulders.
The wet, sucking sounds he’s making between my legs echo in the massive room.
He groans against me, and I feel the vibration ricochet up my spine.
“Gregory--” I plea.
He pulls back just enough to speak, his lips and chin glistening. “Hands behind your back.”
I obey.
I press my palms to the small of my back. The posture thrusts my breasts forward, arches my back, and bares me to him completely.
His approval is a dark hum before his mouth seals over me again.
God--
Right--
There.
He laps like I’m his last meal. His fingers dig into my hips hard enough to bruise. The inevitable heat starts to rise in my core again, and my thighs shake.
Yes--
Please--
Almost.
He stops.
Air rushes into my lungs.
Cruel emptiness throbs between my legs.
WHAT.
“Not yet.” He sits back, wiping my wetness from his chin.
“Are you serious?” I ask.
“Very.” He actually smiles. “You can lower your hands.”
