I gasped, then caught myself. “Oh, that’s—”
He looked up, face serious. “Good?”
He licked me again, slower this time, then circled my clit with his tongue. The swing’s micro-movements amplified every sensation. He hooked his hands under my knees, holding me open, and went to work.
My head fell back at the sensation.
“Look at you. My little bird, your cunt is so perfect for my mouth. I could eat you all day.”
I was already sensitive from the flogging, every touch was almost too much. He didn’t let up. He alternated between sucking, flicking, and tracing slow spirals. When I tried to squirm away, the swing just rocked me back into him.
“You can’t fly away, Wren. There’s nowhere for you to go, anyway.”
There was nowhere else I wanted to be. He added two fingers, fucking me in slow, deliberate strokes, then curling them to press against that spot inside that nobody else had ever found. My brain scrambled. My body went hot and cold and hot again. I knew I was dripping as I floated, weightless.
He pressed his tongue hard against my clit and fucked me with his hand, his fingers relentless in and out of me, and when the orgasm hit, it ripped through me like a tidal wave. The chains of the swing jerked when my stomach contracted. I cried out, loud and raw, and the echo bounced off the walls.
He didn’t stop. He kept going, dragging the aftershocks out until I was shivering, my legs jelly and my hands numb from clutching the straps.
When hefinally let go, he stood and wiped his mouth, a satisfied gleam in his eyes. “That’s one,” he said.
I heard the zipper of his jeans as he removed them. I hung there in the swing, my clit pulsing with the beats of my heart. I remembered the stretch of his cock, and I tingled in anticipation of feeling it again. He lifted my hips, my upper back supported by the padded strap. Then he lined himself up and slid into me in one long, slow thrust. The angle was perfect—he hit every nerve ending at once, and the fullness was so much I almost blacked out.
He grabbed the swing’s side chains, using them to pull me onto his cock again and again, each time harder, each time deeper. The swing creaked, and my breath came in little animal pants.
“God, you feel fucking fantastic. You were made for me.”
He fucked me for what felt like hours. At one point, I came again, this time so fast and so bright I couldn’t see for a few seconds. He kept going, relentless, until finally, with a growl, he came inside me, his hands tight on my hips.
He stayed inside for a moment, then pulled out and spun me. He kissed me gently, cradling my head against his chest.
“Breathe, little bird,” he said, and stroked my hair.
I did. Slowly, the world stitched itself back together.
He unstrapped me and carried me to the bed that sat in the corner of the room. Gently, he laid me down and caressed my face. “You handled everything so amazingly for your first time, Wren. Are you okay?”
I saw the look of concern on his face. “That was everything I didn’t know I needed.”
He tipped my chin up and kissed me, slow and deep. I tasted myself on his tongue, the flavor sharp and dark, and something in me purred at the knowledge. He tasted like sex and coffee and a kind of dangerous, elemental joy I’d never felt before. The world went soft at the edges.
He sat with his back against the headboard and pulled me up my back against his chest. He stroked my hair with one hand, the otherdrawing slow circles on my thigh. I breathed in the scent of him and let the silence fill me up.
When he spoke, it was so soft I almost missed it.
“I didn’t like you for a long time, you know.”
I twisted, looking up at him. “What?”
He shrugged, face blank. “Not you. The idea of you. The possibility.” He worked his jaw, looking anywhere but in my eyes. “You were this… thing that haunted me. I’d see you running around the compound after your parents died, after you’d graduated from high school and were attending junior college. You were too small and too reckless, and I’d thinkshe’s going to get herself killed.”
I felt the laugh before I heard it. “You weren’t wrong,” I said.
He ran a finger along my jaw, the touch gentle, almost reverent. “But then I started watching you. Not in a creepy way—”
I snorted. “That’s a lie.”
He grinned, then sobered. “I saw you grow up. Saw how you took care of your asshole brother. Saw how you never gave up, even when you were alone. And I thought maybe you were stronger than I knew. Maybe you were just built different.”
