He stroked himself one more time then moved to my other sock, tossing it, too, aside.
My jeans and panties were gone before I could even blink and–
“Oh!” I cried as he dropped to his knees once again, this time onto the soft carpet at the side of my bed. He didn’t waste time while flinging my legs over his shoulders and put his mouth on me.
There.
“Boone!” I cried, arching my back. I tried to push away with my heels, and he instantly lifted his head.
I couldn’t believe I was going to have a conversation with the man with his head between my thighs. That dark hair, that beard, the glistening mouth, the need I saw in his gaze.
“Permission to eat you out,” he growled.
Those words made me wetter, and he took a deep breath, his nostrils flaring. He was patient, waiting for my answer.
“Yes, but I’ve never–” I bit my lip, not wanting to admit that Marty had never, not once, gone down on me. Said he didn’t like it, that he didn’t like the taste of pussy. I also didn’t want to admit that he’d never once given me an orgasm. I’d only ever given those to myself in the shower when I was alone.
Boone’s eyes narrowed. “You have now.”
Because I said yes, he went to work and with a renewed sense of purpose, as if he was going to make this the first–and best–experience ever. He licked me from–holy shit–my asshole all the way to my clit.
I jerked off the bed at the feelings his tongue brought about. One huge hand settled across my stomach and held me in place.
Then he went to work. By work, I meant he licked my clit and slid a thick finger inside me. Then out. Then in. Then–
I had no idea what he was doing down there, but he got me to come with a pace he should be proud of. One second, I was clawing at his hair and arching my back, the next I screamed his name and clenched around his finger in the most powerful and intense orgasm of my life.
I panted and tried to catch my breath, but wow. I’d never come that hard before or come with something in me.
I wasn’t going to dwell on how shitty things must’ve been with Marty if this was what it was really like, and Boone hadn’t even gotten inside me yet. He was still dressed, even!
I was sated and relaxed and felt so amazing that I was hooked.
“Another,” he said.
I lifted my head. “Another?”
His beard was coated with my arousal. His cheeks flushed, jaw clenched tight. He was into this.
“Another finger,” he clarified. “Another orgasm.”
When he pulled back, then slid two fingers into me and curled them to rub over some place inside me that was magical and life changing, my head flopped back, and I let go.
7
BOONE
* * *
Honey. Fuck me. She tasted like sticky, sweet honey. And she dripped for me. It was in my beard, all over my hand. On my tongue.
Soon, it was going to coat my dick, too. But my pleasure was secondary to pleasuring my mate. Learning what satisfied her.
She’d started to say no man had ever eaten her pussy before? That made me want to go find that soon-to-be ex of hers and teach him a lesson or two about how to treat a woman.
That began on your knees. Worshipping her body. Knowing she was aroused and needy, sated, and ready for your dick. Then, only then, should a guy even consider himself.
Only when she’d come again did I push up to rid her of her t-shirt and bra. She’d been sweaty and sated and laid all bare and perfect as I stripped down.
