His lips touched her spine, sucking on her skin as he kissed his way down to her tailbone, and then farther.
His mouth pressed against the inside of her thigh. Flicka opened her eyes. The sunshine coming in the window warmed her hand, shining on her blond hair that had flipped over her face.
Dieter mouthed her skin upward, nipping her skin at the tops of her thighs, and his tongue slid through her folds.
Flicka arched her back, and her panting breath became a moan.
The sound seemed to be a signal to Dieter, and he rocked his mouth against her folds and the bright spot of pleasure near the front somehow, driving his tongue deep inside her.
Flicka scraped her nails on the cold marble countertop as he pushed into her, a warm, soft invasion that made her body tighten.
His arm circled her waist, and he stroked her from the front with his fingers, each touch deeper in her folds.
Her body clenched with each stroke of his hand and tongue, spiraling more tightly.
Dieter massaged her, a firm, slow movement that forced her over the edge with an authoritative push, and waves lifted her as she floated.
Bliss carried her, and she clung to the counter as her legs shook around his tongue and hand.
Her forehead pressed against the cold marble as she tried to slow her breathing. If she backed up in the slightest, she would fall.
Dieter wrapped his arms around her and dragged her to standing, and he spun her around so that he held her to his chest.
Flicka grabbed him around his neck and hung on until her pounding heart slowed.
His strong arms held her up when her legs would have let her fall.
“It’s okay,” he whispered into her hair. “I’ve got you.”
