My shadows dance around her in excitement and then it’s they that are pulling at me, dragging me into the room, towing me towards Briony.
“No!” I say.
“It’s okay, Thorne,” she says, holding out a hand, her cheeks rosy with her release. “Touch me.”
“I … I can’t,” I say, through gritted teeth, so close to her now I can see the pulse skipping in her throat and all the greens in her eyes.
“You can,” Dray whispers, scurrying out from between her legs, leaving the two of us in the privacy of the cloak my shadows have provided.
I drop to my knees in front of her, eyes skating all over her flushed body – the curve of her breasts, the pinch of her waist, the curls between her legs. Her skin – milky, silken – begs to be touched.
“You touched me before, Thorne,” she whispers, “and the world didn’t end. Touch me now.”
I lift my hand.
There are so many places I want to touch. So many parts of her I want to explore. I want to traverse her, map her, commit her to memory. The possibilities are endless and I have no clue where to begin.
“Thorne,” she says, drawing my attention to her lips.
Yes, I’ll start there.
I bring my hand to her mouth, my fingertips brushing over the rosy pink skin. Softer than I imagined. I trace them, first the top lip, then the bottom, feeling the whisper of her breath against my palm as I do and then tracing where her two lips meet. Her lips curl up into a smile and part, then she presses a kiss against my fingertip.
I can’t help but smile back.
“You have such pretty lips,” I say. “Most pretty when you smile, Nini.”
“Right back at you, Grumps,” she replies.
I shake my head and trace my fingertips down from her lips, over her chin and to her throat. I notice, as I glide my fingers down the skin here, a little damp with sweat, that the graze from earlier has already faded.
My shadows are no longer spinning, they hang motionless and quiet, like they’re watching us – watching and keeping us hidden.
Next, I trace her clavicle, so much smaller and more fragile feeling than my own and then I’m reaching the slope of her breasts. Her skin here is even softer and both our breaths hitch as I follow the rise of her left breast right to the crinkled skin of her nipple. It’s like velvet beneath my touch, the nub even softer, and I can’t help but stroke and pet it, utterly transfixed, finally squeezing it between my forefinger and thumb, making her moan.
It spurs me onward, to the valley between her full breasts and then up to the nipple of her right. They are so perfect and I think the stars were looking down favorably on us when they decided the female of the species would be blessed with two.
I chuckle at my own thought and she looks at me quizzically as I draw my fingertips lower, over her ribcage to her pliable belly and then to her intimate curls.
I swallow hard and she parts her legs a little wider for me, lifting up onto her knees.
“Briony,” I groan.
“Touch me,” she says, “touch me there.”
The curls are a little more coarse than the hair on her head, but slightly curled and a shade darker. I run my finger through them and to the apex of her pussy lips. They are as plump andswollen as they’ve always looked and all I want is to suck them into my mouth like I just saw Dray do.
One step at a time though. I have to trust that I, and my shadows, can handle this first.
She’s also wet. Is that her arousal or Dray’s spit? He’s always gone on and on about how wet the girl is. When I dip my fingers between her lips, I find she’s even wetter and as much as I want to explore, I want to see this for myself.
I lift my hand away from her, ignoring the little huff of frustration she makes, and bring my fingers up to my face. My fingers are covered in a creamy substance that smells musky and like Briony herself. I meet her gaze and then I suck my fingers into my mouth.
The taste is erotic. Erotic and as musky as it smelled – a little sweet too. It’s not like the best dessert – the darkest chocolate or the sweetest ice-cream – but it is a taste I fall instantly in love with. A taste I know I’ll be craving for the rest of my life. I lick her arousal from my fingers and then I’m dipping my hand back between her legs.
She’s shown me numerous times now how she likes to be touched, but it’s one thing to watch and another to do it myself. I’ve never done this before and I’m relying on my sense of touch.
I swim my fingertips through her folds, finding her inner lips. I search towards her front, making her jolt as my fingers fondle over something hard and nub-like.
