“More,” I say out loud, and pick her up in my arms.
I kiss her on the way to the bed, then lay her down on the quilt she put out. Gretel kisses me back just as hard. As if she missed me just as much as I missed her.
When I can stand to leave her mouth, I kiss down to her neck, then to her nipples, and then to her belly. Gretel’s hands find my hair. Even her breathing turns me on. The arch of her back into the quilt is perfect.
I move my shoulders between her thighs and lick her clit. She’s sweet as fuck and the way her hips buck at the sensation fuels me on.
Gretel lets out a long moan and opens her legs wider for me.
This is what she deserves. Everything I can give her. I lick her and taste her and swirl my tongue over her clit and lap up her arousal. I don’t care about my own throbbing cock. All I care about is Gretel’s pleasure, and the strangled cries of pleasure she keeps letting out, and the way her hands grab at my hair to keep my face buried in her pussy.
I suck at her clit until her thighs shake.
“Hansel,” she cries out my name, her voice high and breathy. “Hansel—I’m—oh, I have to—” I don’t stop, I don’t let up as she thrusts herself closer and her fists ball the blanket on either side of her.
“I’m going to come,” she cries out, her nipples pebbled and her back arched as pride flows through me.
Her orgasm seems to last and last, and I hold her by her hips and ride it out with her, nibbling and teasing and loving that I got her off.
And then I can’t get enough of it. The second she starts to come down, I delve between her legs again and lick her until she cries out a second time and pulls me up to her, shaking.
“Please,” she begs me. “Please.”
“Please what?” I ask her in a murmur.
“I need you,” she whispers.
Fuck, that’s all I ever wanted to hear.
I’ve wanted to run my hands through her hair like this for years. Kiss her neck like this for years. Feel her pulse pounding from the orgasms I’ve just given her for years.
It’s almost too good to be real, but I push my face into the side of Gretel’s neck and kiss her again. She is real. We’re here in this godforsaken cottage because she swore the witch was back, but the witch is as dead as she was when we left this place together.
Gretel and I are alive. And I’ll be damned if this place ever haunts her again.
It doesn’t take her long to recover. She turns her head and kisses me, igniting another intense wave of pure need in me. I have to be inside her. There’s no other option. I can’t live another second without being inside of her.
Gretel moves against me, almost frantic, pleadingly. Every part of me has been begging for her since the second I saw her. Why didn’t I realize that sooner? Why did it take so damn long?
It doesn’t matter. We’re here now, and the heat from the fire fills the room, and Gretel keeps her arms around my neck as I position myself over her.
I kiss her jaw and her chin and her lips and slip my fingers between her legs. She moans softly, spreading her thighs again as I slide one finger into her slick opening. Gretel’s tight but takes my finger easily, her hips rocking into my touch.
I add another finger and curl them. She shivers, more pleasure moving through her and her pussy clenching down on my knuckles.
“I need you,” she murmurs. “Hansel. I need you.”
“You can have me,” I answer.
“Please,” she says, her eyes locked on mine. “Please, Hansel.”
I line myself up with her opening and push in slowly watching as her eyes widen and her breath catches.
She feels like heaven. So wet. So tight. So mine. I hold my breath, forcing myself to go still, then stroke Gretel’s hair out of her face.
“We’ll go slow,” I promise her. As much as I want to fuck her with reckless abandon. I know this is her first time.
“I don’t want to,” she says, and rolls her hips. My eyes close and my head drops to her chest at her revelation. She doesn’t know what she does to me. She doesn’t realize what she’s asking for.
