“Tell me exactly what you want, queen,” he murmured against my throbbing flesh. “You want to make my face your throne? I’ll do it.You reserve the right to be selfish tonight.”
The desire to speak was fierce and clawing at my throat, but the words were elusive captives. He was right. I wanted his handsome seat of a face in places it’d never been before. When they finally burst free, they came out in a heated whisper. I gasped, my tone laced with urgency.
“I want you to finger me… to taste me, to fuck me, Sir. Please. I’m yours,” I declared.
There was a pause, a moment when the air seemed to thicken with my plea and surrender. Then Sir shook his head, the barest movement, but one that spoke volumes.
“No, not until I keep my promises to you.” His tone was resolute and commanding even as his lips grazed my sensitized skin. “And I promised I’d make you cum by sucking this precious pearl of yours, didn’t I?”
I could only nod, lost in the depth of his fiery gaze. The pledge lingered between us like a sacred vow.
He smirked. “No finger fucking. No fucking you with my dick. Not until your cum is all over my tongue.” His words dripped with persuasion, painting images of raw pleasure that seared into my mind. “I want you to flood my beard with your juices when you cum, Averie. I want your scent to soak into my skin where I can’t wash it off…ever.”
A shudder ripped through me. The immorality of his wish and the sheer intensity of his need for me fanned the internal flames higher. I was no stranger to the gritty streets of desire, but with Sir, I found myself navigating an entirely new map where every turn led to uncharted peaks of unimaginable pleasure.
My fingertips found his hair, threading through the soft waves, anchoring myself to him as he brought me closer to the edge once more. It was a dance of fire and desire, yielding control to gain something far more exciting: a release so hard that it would redefine ecstasy.
Fuck, he’s so sexy.
My breath hitched as a wave of pleasure crashed over me. I’d been with men before, plenty of them, but none had ever dedicated themselves to my body with such single-minded devotion. As a detective, I was used to reading people, but with Sir, well, he’d always been a mystery to me. He was unraveling me completely.
My hips lifted off the pillowtop mattress involuntarily when he sucked harder at my clit, his hands expertly parting my juicy folds to expose my sensitive clit to the warm, wet assault of hismouth. He tongued it perfectly, lapping at my flower like I was the finest delicacy, jabbing with a light precision that sent jolts of pleasure straight to my brain. It felt so damn good, it wasalmostworth getting fired for.
“Goddamn, Sir!” I panted, my voice barely above a whisper as pleasure coiled tighter within me, rising from the pit of my stomach.
The room was a blur, the onyx walls of his bedroom melting into nothingness as all my senses focused on the sensation between my legs.
“Like that, my only queen?” Sir murmured against my flesh, his breath hot. His eyes flicked up to meet mine, and for a moment, I saw the barest hint of vulnerability in them. It was a significant contrast to the gruff gangsta exterior he showed the rest of the world.
“More… just like that,” I begged, feeling every ounce of control slipping through my fingers like smoke as I surrendered to his services. I needed it—I needed him to push me over the edge into oblivion.
He chuckled, a dark, promising sound, and shifted his focus back to my pulsating clit, his movements deliberate and unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world to idolize my body. Every lap, every suck, every tender bite was a step closer to me shattering. I clung to him, my nails scraping his fade, anchoring myself to reality by the sheer force of his presence between my thick caramel thighs.
“Cum for me, Averie,” he commanded, the pads of his thumbs pressing down gently, holding the folds of my yoni open. I was vulnerable and utterly at his mercy. “I want to feel you explode.”
And as his mouth worked its magic, I knew I was close, teetering on the brink of a release that promised to be as intense as the man drawing it out of my depths. My thoughts were awhirlwind, my body an atlas of sensation that Sir navigated with the expertise of a seasoned explorer. The fact that he wasn’t some white-collar angel didn’t faze me. I was too consumed by the blissful havoc he wreaked on my senses. Whoever had schooled him in the art of touch had done the world a service, and I was reaping the benefits. My hips rolled to meet his every move, chasing down the pleasure that pooled at my core.
“Fuck, yes!” I managed to scream out with raw pleasure. My detective’s mind, usually so sharp and in control, swirled with a fog of desire, rendering me useless under his spell. I’d climaxed once already, a testament to his skill, but it was clear that round two was barreling toward me like a bullet train. And I wanted it, oh, how I craved that earth-shattering pleasure again.
Sir’s tongue was relentless, a perfect instrument of torment as it flicked and swirled around my clit, sending jolts of ecstasy radiating through me from the tips of my toes to my scalp. I squirmed beneath him, my nails scraping against his tattooed biceps, each movement a silent plea for more. I felt the cliff approaching, my body wound tight as a spring, so close to snapping I could cry.
But then, just as I was about to tumble over the edge, he stopped. The absence of his mouth was like cold water splashed over my overheated skin. A frustrated whimper slipped past my lips. My eyes popped wide, staring at him in disbelief, my chest heaving.
“What the fuck, Sir?” I queried, the words breaking through clenched teeth. But Sir only snickered at my distress, the sound vibrating against my overstimulated flesh. He looked up at me with those piercing brown eyes. Mischief and desire mingled within their depths.
“Patience, detective,” he said teasingly. “Don’t you know good things come to those who wait?”
And then he was back, his mouth latching onto me with renewed vigor, drawing another desperate moan from deep within my throat. He suckled with a fierce intensity that threatened to snap me in two. Sir proved he had talents that couldn’t be put on resumes. I scraped at his back, surrendering to the sensations ready to crack and send me spiraling into oblivion.
Sir gripped the small of my back, pulling me toward his lips. “I don’t think you’ll ever understand what your moans do to me.”
His touch feathered over me again, deliberate and maddeningly slow. My breath caught in my throat as I resisted the urge to buck against him, to demand more. The shift from the absence of his mouth to the gentle resumption was its own form of agony, sweet and perfect.
“Easy,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through my core.
He drew out each caress, his tongue tracing lazy figure-eights around my clit, lapping at my folds with a patience that bordered on cruelty. His nails dug deep into my flesh as he held my waist.My teeth sunk into my bottom lip, fighting the pressure within me. I focused on Sir, the thick beard that shadowed his jaw and how his sexy chocolate-brown eyes seemed to devour me. His groans, dominant and approving, stimulated my arousal to new heights. It was like he was savoring me, and I loved being his entrée and dessert.
“P-please, Sir,” I choked out, the words barely recognizable.
