“You look so proud,” she teases, and I grin back at her. “I’m not finished yet.”
Ava squeals with laughter as I straddle her legs, careful to keep my weight off her as I lean over and grab the lotion. When she spots it, she throws a hand over her face and grumbles.
“I can’t believe you’re going to rub cream on my sore nipples. This isnotsexy, Bastien!”
“Baby, anything to do with me touching your body is going to make me hard as a rock.” Proving my point, my erection nudges her thigh and she tries to open her legs.
“Not yet,” I tut playfully. “Hands above your head, love. If you move them, I’ll stop.”
Breathing hard, she raises her arms above her head, the movement pushing her breasts toward me. They’ve definitely grown, thanks to the babies. My mouth goes dry.
“You’re so damn beautiful,” I croak out, and she shivers. “Don’t say things like that and make me cry.”
“I need to say them more, then, so you get used to it.”
“I’ll never get used to it.”
I hope not, not if it puts that light in her eyes.
I pop the lid and squeeze some of the lotion onto my fingers before I reach down and stroke it against her left nipple. She gasps at the coldness, and her nub hardens under my hands as my finger smooths back and forth, gently rubbing in the cream.
Fuck, the way her nipples rise under my fingers makes my mouth hunger for a taste. I want to wrap my lips around them andsuck.
There’ll be plenty of time for that, I remind myself.
I press gentle kisses around her cherry-coloured aureole, and she pushes against me. “I want to touch you.”
“Not yet, baby.” She huffs in frustration, and my smile grows against her skin. I can’t taste her nipples, but there’s something else I fully intend to feast on.
My mouth trails downwards, kissing over her stomach and down, until I’m pressing my lips to the thatch of caramel curls above her pussy. Her hips twist, and I gently hold them still. “Bastien, please,” she begs, the edge of a whine in her voice.
Her scent teases me, the rich, warm scent of vanilla filling the room.
Cupcakes and frosting. Fucking delicious.
“Fuck, Ava,” I groan as my hands spread her wide and I look at her soft, pink slit, wet and inviting. “Fucking perfect.”
She moans, and I watch in fascination as a trail of slick trickles from her opening. Lifting her legs, I prop them over my shoulders and her thighs quiver with the strain of holding herself back. Her hands slide down, grasping the bedding in her fists, and I grab her hands, curling our fingers together as I go in for dessert.
Her hips lift off the mattress with my first long, slow lick.“Bastien!”
I pull my head back. “Tell me this is okay,” I grunt. “Or tell me to stop.”
“Don’t you dare,” she gasps, and I surge back in, taking luxurious licks of her weeping pussy as she mewls and twists, my hands holding her steady as I feast. Ava cries out, my name on her lips as I thrust my tongue into her opening, savouring every last drop of her as I move it in and out, pushing my face as close I can get. And it’s still not enough. My every sense is fucking consumed with the omega above me.
I pull back. “Mine, cupcake. Tell me you’re mine.”
It’s possessive as fuck, but I don’t care. She’s mine, but I’m hers too. She owns me, heart, body and fucking soul, and I don’t ever want her to let go.
“Yours,” she cries out. “Yours, Bastien!”
Her cries grow louder as I pick up the pace, licking and sucking at her until she shakes around me, slick flowing onto my tongue in an echo of her release.
“Let it go,” I snarl. “Now, baby. Come for me.”
Her body tenses, her hands gripping mine as the sweetest fucking gush of vanilla flows onto my tongue. I push my tongue inside, letting go of her hands and wrapping my arms around the tops of her thighs, seeking every last drop of her as she quivers and falls apart beneath me.
I pull back, her juices covering the lower half of my face.
