“Oh fuck,” she gasped, her hands flying to my hair and holding me against her. “Luke. Oh my God.”
Again, I focused on learning her: which touches made her gasp, which made her hips buck, where she was most sensitive. Her clit was swollen and responsive, and when I closed my lips around it and sucked gently, she nearly came off the floor.
“There. Right there. Don’t stop.”
To be clear, I had zero intention of stopping.
I worked her with my tongue and lips, finding a rhythm that had her thighs trembling. When I added a finger to the mix, she moaned so loudly I was briefly grateful I didn’t have any neighbors close by.
“More,” she demanded, rocking against my hand. “I can take more.”
I added a second finger, curling them the way I’d studied, searching for that spot that was supposed to feel different from the surrounding tissue. When I found it, Holly’s entire body went rigid.
“Oh fuck. Oh fuck. That’s—you found?—”
I stroked that spot while my mouth worked her clit, and Holly’s inner walls clenched around my fingers, while her thighs clamped tightly around my head.
And then, just as she was about to tip over … I stopped.
Her eyes flew open. “What—why did you?—”
“Not yet.” I kissed her inner thigh, feeling her pulse race under my lips. “I want to make this last.”
“Luke.” Her voice came out high and desperate-sounding. “I was so close.”
“I know. And I’m going to get you there. I promise. But not yet.”
I went back to work, building her back up with deliberate care. It took longer this time for her to approach that edge, and when she did, I could see the tension in every line of her body.
“Please,” she whimpered. “Please, Luke, I need?—”
I stopped again.
“No!” She cried. “You can’t keep?—”
“I can.” I kissed my way up her body until I could look her in the eyes. They were wild, her cheeks flushed, her lips swollen, presumably from biting them. She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
She grabbed my face and kissed me desperately. “I just need to come. I need it so badly.”
“You will. I promise you will. But I’m going to make us both earn it first.”
I traced my fingers down her side—feather-light, barely touching—and watched goosebumps rise in the wake of my touch. Her breath hitched, and her hips shifted restlessly.
“Do you trust me?” I asked, my fingers drawing lazy patterns across her hipbone.
“Yes.” She closed her eyes, exhaling slowly. “I trust you. Do whatever you want. I’m—” She pulled in another shaky breath. “I’m yours.”
She was. Completely.
She just didn’t know it yet.
“Good girl,” I murmured, and kissed her once more, before sliding back down her body, settling between her legs again.
This time, I kept my eyes on her face as I lowered my mouth to her clit—watching her expression as I added two fingers. She was so wet now that my fingers slid in easily, and the sound she made when I found that perfect angle nearly undid me.
I spent the next twenty or thirty minutes bringing her to the brink again and again until she was crying actual tears.
“Please,” she sobbed. “Please, please, please. I can’t—I need?—”
