She makes a frustrated sound. Reaches for my belt.
I gently catch her wrist. “Not yet.”
I pull back slightly and slide my hand between her thighs. The linen trousers she’s wearing are soaked from the rain, clinging to her skin. I can feel the heat of her through the fabric.
I press my palm against her pussy and she shudders.
“Off,” I say, tugging at the waistband.
She lifts her hips. I peel the trousers and her underwear down in one motion, and then she’s naked on my desk while I’m still mostly clothed.
I drop to my knees.
“Corin?” Her voice is breathy.
“Shh.” I spread her thighs.
She’s wet.
Not from the rain, here.
I drag my tongue up her center, slow and deliberate, and she makes a sound that’s half moan, half sob.
Good.
I want her wrecked.
I work her with my mouth and fingers, bringing her right to the edge. My tongue swirls around her swollen clit, savoring the salt-sweet taste of her arousal mingling with rainwater.
Her thighs instantly clamp around my ears, trembling.
I slide two fingers deep inside her, curling upward until she gasps and her inner walls flutter against my knuckles.
Her breath hitches into ragged, broken gasps.
Almost there.
I feel her body coil tighter, tighter. Her hips lift off the desk, her back arches like a drawn bow.
Her hands fist in my hair, pulling hard enough to sting.
“Corin— Corin—”
Not yet.
I pull back completely, my mouth leaving her with a soft wet sound.
Her cry is pure frustration.
“Look at me.” Her eyes snap open, dazed and dark with need.
I hold her gaze as I slowly lick my lips, tasting her on my skin. “This is mine. Every gasp. Every tremble. You don’t cum until I say you’ve earned it.”
She whimpers, her hips straining toward me. I chuckle. “Patience.”
When I dive back in with my tongue, I’m merciless.
My tongue flicks her clit in rapid circles while my fingers piston in and out, the heel of my hand grinding against her. The scent of her, so musky, so desperate, it fills my lungs.
