“Yes. More.” I beg before he swallows my pleas with his mouth, his talented tongue keeping me distracted while his skilled fingers find my clit with unerring precision, circling it slowly.
I think I might actually die from the pleasure.
“Promise me.” He’s watching my face, drinking in every gasp and whimper. “Promise me you won’t do anything to get yourself killed.”
Stubbornness flares within me. He’s not in my position. How dare he try to dictate what I do?
“I…” As if sensing the fiery words on the tip of my tongue, his thumb presses harder against my clit, silencing me, and I lose my train of thought completely.
“Promise me,” he growls against my ear.
A shiver runs down my spine, making me curl up into him even as I shake my head. “I can’t… promise…”
He stops. He actuallyfuckingstops.
I cry out at the loss of sensation, grabbing his hand. “No, don’t stop, please.”
“Promise me.” His voice is implacable. “Promise me you’ll fight.”
I am fighting with the only weapon I possess.
“You can’t demand…”
His thumb circles my clit again, light and teasing, and I whimper, knowing he’s taunting me. I’ve never known anything like this. I haven’t even come yet, and I’m addicted. Is this what I’ve been missing out on all these years?
Somehow, I know it’s not. This is not normal. I’ve heard my girlfriends talk about sex. It never sounded as incredible as this.
“Yes. Fuck it, yes, I promise.”
I need to feel it, feel this, everything that he has to give me.
With nothing more than a satisfied nod and a bruising kiss, he tugs my underwear aside and finally, finally, his fingers touch bare flesh.
I moan, smothering my cries by pressing my lips to his bare shoulder. My nails dig into his muscular back as he strokes through my wetness, spreading it up and over my clit in slow, devastating circles.
“So sensitive.” He sounds almost reverent. “So attuned to my touch.”
I can’t respond. I can barely breathe. All I can do is cling to him as he plays my body like an instrument, building me higher with every stroke. His fingers stay on my clit, never dipping inside, though he circles my clenching entrance, teasing me with each careful pass.
Despite my frustration, some distant part of my brain registers that he’s being careful, that he’s protecting my virginity, even now, even when I’d let him do anything he wanted.
“I’ve thought about this.” His voice is low and hypnotic as his fingers work their magic. “Thought about what you’d taste like. What sounds you’d make when you came. Prayed you’d slip your fingers back into your panties and finish the job just so I could hear you.”
Fuck. Nobody has ever spoken to me like this.
“Bodhi…” I’m climbing fast, too fast, as my entire body coils tightly. Nerves flutter in my belly. I’ve come with my vibrator before, but nothing has felt even remotely as powerful as this. I’m afraid of what’s coming.
“Let me taste you.” It’s not quite a question since he’s already sliding back onto his knees. With gentle hands, he drags my panties down my legs and over my ankles before balling them in his fist and bringing them to his nose.
I watch, transfixed, while he holds them against his face and breathes deep, his eyelids falling shut as he groans in pleasure.
Stunned, I can’t look away, unsure whether I should be horrified rather than the giddy arousal I feel at the sight of this big man, brought to his knees by my desire for him.
“Heavenly,” he murmurs, slipping the panties into his back pocket and leaning forward once more.
He frowns when he sees I’ve clamped my legs shut once more, and with a gentle tut and slow hands, he pries them apart.
“Perfect.” Unable to think about whether he’s talking about me or my vagina, I blush under this praise. Locking eyes with me once, he lifts one of my legs over his shoulder, pushing my skirt even higher up around my waist. “I need to taste you, Emma.”
