Her dangerous little smile lingers, and her wrist’s pulse beats under my palm. The rapid thrum of her heart matches my own.
I let her grip loosen, just enough to remind her that she can say stop at any time, but not loose enough for her to forget that I’m supposed to be in charge of her fantasy.
“Still want to test me? Or are we going to have to do everything the hard way?” It’s almost scary how easily I fall into the dominant role for her, like we’re each other’s missing pieces. For what it’s worth, I think Daphne is just as surprised as I am.
“I want to see what you’ll do if I break the rules—I like seeing what happens when I push,” she says slowly, her gaze tracing my face like she’s trying to memorize it. “I trust you.”
The words hang there as her bravado softens. Whatever game we're playing, it’s more than just teasing. It feels like devotion.
Neither of us moves. The distance between us is drawn taut as a wire. Then, so incredibly slowly, I let go of her wrists.
Daphne’s hands stay where they are.
“Suddenly a good girl?” I arch a brow.
“If I am, it’s only because I choose to be,” she coos, arching her hips up for me to see. She keeps her arms above her head, as if they're pinned by some imaginary restraint. “Maybe I just want to see what you’ll do,” she adds, her voice dropping low, “before I start breaking your rules again.”
I place my blue hand low on her pale belly, and take a steadying breath in. Her scent, the one that drives me crazy in the best of circumstances, is so perfectly all-consuming this close to her sex.
I keep one hand there and use my other to trace up and down her slick labia. The touches are light and quick, and I twist my finger to ensure that enough of her natural lube coats my skin.
Daphne rocks her hips, and throws her head back, those perfect lips parting with a throaty moan.
“So wet for me.” I test her entrance with just one finger, probing her velvet softness until the tight ring of her entrance relaxes.
“You’ll need to work up to take my cock, you’re so tight.” I add a second finger and continue to stretch her sex. The hand on her belly sinks even lower until my thumb is able to reach her clit.
I lean forward, and drag my tongue up her seam, tasting her cum and circling my pointed tongue around the perfect little bundle of nerves. She tastes as fucking amazing as she smells.
“Oh fuck,” Daphne pants as her inner walls tighten around my fingers. “That feels so fucking good!”
I don’t need the encouragement to keep going, her heady taste alone would have been enough.
I bring my head up, replacing it with the pad of my thumb, and smile at the vision laid bare before me. Even though the blizzard outside was raging, cold and violent, she burned like a bonfire—melting my every defense.
“Mouth, again, please!” She whimpers.
I’m greedy with her pussy now, sucking her clit between my lips and pumping my fingers deep and up toward her belly. I stroke the spongy spot there, relishing the sounds of pleasure I’m milking from her.
Her hands fly down suddenly, grabbing my horns like they’re steering wheels for her satisfaction. She pushes my face hard against her hips, and I know that she’s close.
I flatten my tongue, lapping her clit with broad, full-pressure strokes.
“Right there, oh my god, right there,” she hums low in her throat.
I pick up my pace, plunging my fingers deep against that swollen flesh inside.
Her legs go stock-straight underneath me when I point my tongue directly onto her clit, and her vagina tightens around me, the fluttering gone.
I push her pearl back and forth, and when her body can’t tighten anymore, it releases and pumps hard over my hand. There’s a rush of fluid that coats me and her thighs.
I slow my thrusting and let my fingers slide out just enough to trace the delicate skin at her opening. She slumps, releasing my horns, and sighs.
“Maybe I should be a good girl more often, Christ," she mumbles, her eyes shut tight.
“Did you like it then?” I ask. I want to make sure that I’m doing what makes her feel good.
“Like it? I’ve never done that before…oral,” She looks a little shy at the admission. “And I’ve never…squirted?” Her eyes crack open as she looks at the damp sheets between her legs.
