Fuck, she tastes good. Like everything I’ve ever been hungry for.
I do it again, slower this time, savoring her. Then I focus on her clit, circling it with the very tip of my tongue. I keep my pace agonizingly slow, deliberate, making her squirm and whine beneath me. Her grip on my hair tightens, pulling almost to the point of pain. I love it. I want her to lose control.
I can feel her body starting to tighten, her thighs beginning to tremble around my head. She’s close, so fucking close. I pull my mouth away.
“No—Dante, please?—”
I look up. Her eyes are glazed, her lips parted. “Say it.”
“Say what?” she pants, frustration edging her voice.
I lean in and blow a cool breath over her wetness, making her shudder violently. “Say you’re mine.”
“Dante—”
I give her what she wants for just a second. One hard, fast lick that has her back arching off the couch. Then I stop. “Say it, Bianca.”
“Fine! I’m yours. I’m yours. Happy?”
“Getting there.” I smirk and go back to work, but I’m not gentle anymore. I’m fucking relentless. I wrap my lips around her clit and suck, hard, while my tongue flicks over it. I slide two fingers inside her, and she is so wet, so ready, they slide in with no resistance.
“You’re so fucking wet for me, Bianca. Soaking my fucking fingers.”
I curl my fingers, finding that spot inside her that makes her scream into her own hand. My other hand slides up her body, cupping her breast through her dress, my thumb rubbing over her nipple until it’s a hard peak. I want to feel her come. I want to taste it.
Her breathing is ragged, sobbing. Her heels dig into my back, trying to pull me closer. I’m fucking her with my fingers, fucking her with my mouth, and all I can hear are her muffled cries and the wet, filthy sounds of me eating her out.
“That’s it,” I growl against her, my voice vibrating through her entire body. “Come for me. Come all over my fucking face.”
It’s all she needs. Her body seizes up, a violent, beautiful tremor that rocks through her. She comes with a broken cry, her thighs clamping around my head as she shakes, and I don’t let up. I keep sucking, keep licking, keep driving her through it until she’s pushing at my head, overstimulated and sensitive.
I pull back, breathing heavily, my chin soaked with her. I look up at her, collapsed on the couch, completely wrecked. Her hand has fallen from her mouth, and she’s just staring at the ceiling, her chest rising and falling like she’s just run a mile.
I lean forward, bracing my hands on the couch on either side of her hips, and bring my mouth to hers. I kiss her deeply, letting her taste herself on my lips, on my tongue. She moans into the kiss, her hands coming up to clutch at my shoulders.
You’re mine now, I think, sucking on her lower lip. You wanted the beast, baby. Now you’ve got him.
"Your turn," she says breathlessly.
"What?"
She slides off the couch onto the floor, her hands already reaching for my belt. "Fair is fair."
I should stop her. Should tell her we need to get back to the party before someone notices we're gone.
Instead, I lean back against the couch and let her work.
She doesn’t rush. She’s savoring this, pulling my pants and briefs down just enough to free my cock, which is already hard and aching for her. The cool air of the room hits my heated skin for a second before her warm fingers wrap around the base.
Fuck.
She just holds me for a moment, her thumb stroking the underside, and I look down to see her staring with a kind of reverence that makes my blood pound. Her lips are parted, her breath warm against the sensitive head.
She doesn’t just dive in. She leans forward and brushes her lips against the tip, the lightest, most fucking torturous kiss I’ve ever felt. It’s a ghost of a touch, a promise. I fist my hands in the carpet to keep from grabbing her head.
Her tongue darting out to trace a slow, wet circle around the crown. I buck my hips involuntarily, a jolt of pure pleasure shooting straight up my spine.
Jesus Christ.
