"Feeling better?" he murmurs, his voice thick, before returning his mouth to me without waiting for an answer.
I can only nod, my fingers tangling in the coverlet near his head. He’s not just sucking the nipple now. He’s taking it…claiming it. His lips stretch wider, and he draws as much of my breast into his mouth as he can. I can feel the hard, the relentless suction…the wet, hot slide of his tongue against my aching peak. The sensation is overwhelming—a direct line of pure, electric pleasure that arcs from my breast to my clit and back again.
I moan again as he switches to the other side, giving the left nipple the same devastating treatment—first the gentle, healing licks, then the deep, hungry sucks. By the time his mouth closes over this peak, the pain is a distant memory—utterly incinerated by the inferno of need building inside me.
He sucks hard—greedily—his hand coming up to cradle the weight of my other breast, his thumb stroking the wet, well-tended nipple he just abandoned.
“Oh, Goddess, Valen!” I gasp. I'm panting now, rocking slightly on my knees, my nightgown tangled around my waist. The slits in the fabric gape open, and I know he can see everything—my flushed chest…my heaving breasts…the desperate, needy expression on my face. He drinks me in with his eyes as he sucks, his gaze half-lidded with possessive lust.
He lets my left nipple slip from his lips, both peaks now glistening and reddened—not from pain but from his attention. My breasts feel heavy— exquisitely sensitive and throbbing with a demand that echoes the empty ache between my thighs.
Valen looks up at me, his breathing slightly ragged.
“Better, sweetheart?” he growls.
"The ache is gone," I whisper, stating the obvious, my voice trembling.
A slow, wicked smile touches his mouth.
"Good," he rumbles. "But we're just getting started. Now it’s time to deal with your soft little pussy."
56
VALEN
I can tell she’s worried. She’s biting her lush bottom lip and shifting on the bed uncomfortably. She needs to let me lick her pussy—it’s the only thing that will make her feel better, but I can sense her reluctance.
Now that I know she was raised to believe this particular act is “dirty,” her uncertainty makes more sense. I need to take things slowly…to ease her into this. So even though I want nothing more than to bury my face between her luscious thick thighs and eat her until she moans and cries and pulls my hair, I hold myself back.
“I know you’re not really comfortable with this, baby,” I murmur, pulling her down to lay beside me and leaning over her. “So let’s take things slowly. We need to get rid of the honey residue in your pussy, but if you don’t want to let me lick you, I could try using my fingers instead.”
Since she let me touch her there earlier, this shouldn’t be too scary. And sure enough, I see her visibly relax at my suggestion.
“Oh, do you think that will work?” she asks hopefully.
Honestly? No, I don’t. But I can tell we need to ease into this and using my fingers is a good way to start.
“We can try it,” I say. “If it helps, that’s all well and good. If not, we can try something else. All right?”
“All…all right,” she falters. “Just please, be careful. I’m so sore and achy right now.”
“I know you are, baby.” I lean down to give her a gentle kiss on the mouth. Then I whisper against her lips, “Remember, I promised never to hurt you.”
When I pull back, she’s flushed and nearly panting.
“I remember,” she says softly. “I trust you, Valen—I do.”
“Good girl,” I praise her. “Then part your legs for me and let me help you, baby.”
Nibbling her lower lip again, she does as I ask, spreading her thighs wide, which causes her emerald green nightgown to ride up, showing her sweet little pussy.
I suck in a breath at what I see—she’s already slick with moisture and her outer lips are opening on their own to show how needy she is. Poor little Princess—what she really needs is my tongue in her pussy. But since she’s shy, we’ll be starting with my fingers.
I suck the forefinger of my right hand into my mouth, making sure to coat it with saliva, since that’s what seems to draw out the magical honey residue and ease the pain and burning. Then I pull my finger from my mouth, slick and shining, ready for the task.
Irena watches with wide eyes, but doesn’t say anything. She does, however, spread her thighs a little wider—a silent invitation.
"That's it," I murmur, my voice already rough with want. "Just like that. Open for me, baby."
