My head dips back slightly as I moan. "Your tongue."
He breathes out fast and presses his forehead to mine. "Do you want me to fuck you with my tongue, Little One?"
Oh God. That is such a great question.
My jaw quivers as I nod. And I'm so tightly wound, I may explode.
When his nose touches mine, my eyes close. His mouth wraps around my top lip and I'm humming as he tugs on it. And then he kisses me deeply, our hot, needy breaths mingling. He feeds a hand through my hair and anotheraround my waist, pressing my body against his. My knees part to welcome his breadth.
I'm kissing Max Butcher!
I try to stay out of my head, but I'm so conscious of the kiss, wanting it to be good for him, wanting my lips to be soft and skilled like his are. I caress my fingers up his back, making his muscles contract. His tongue caresses mine, and our lips massage and pet each other. It's completely beautiful. He smells like man and whiskey and a scent that is all his own. The small hairs on his cheeks and chin brush against my face. As his lips move down to my chin, my neck, and back up again, they paint a hot trail of friction.
His lips never leave mine as he lifts me up and walks me over to the bed. He crawls on with me wrapped around his torso. He leans on one elbow, putting only a tiny part of his weight on me, but it's the part between his legs, the part that is hard as a rock and pressed into my thigh. His fingers glide up my belly and under my singlet. My stomach trembles.
He breaks our kiss. "What's this?" He tickles my upper abdomen, making me giggle.
Cool air rushes between us when he leans to the side and lifts my singlet off over my head. As he stares down at my stomach, I cover my face again, grinning into my palms.
"Is this a little four-pack I see here?" he says. "Little One, you're toned."
"I'm a ballerina," I mumble into my hands.
He pulls my hands from my face again. "Don't hide from me."
I stare straight into his blue-grey eyes and swallow uneasily. "But I have no tits."
His brows draw together and he cups my breast, his fingers teasing my nipple. I bite my bottom lip to stifle a moan, my nipples becoming painfully hard. He buries hishead between my breasts and begins to lick and suck and squeeze. The skin on my chest muffles his groan as he rubs his erection into my thigh.
He sits up abruptly. "I've got to get these off." He unbuttons his jeans and kicks them onto the floor before moving straight back to my nipple. This time I can feel the whole tense ridge of his penis rubbing against me through his boxers. I breathe in and out fast.Suck, suck, blow.
My nipple pops from his mouth and he leans up to watch my expression. His hand slides down my trembling belly, into my shorts, and between my legs. I'm relieved I waxed yesterday. He watches as my eyes close. His fingers stroke the valley between my lips. I'm wet. I'm really wet. His fingers slide around and when he parts me, my mouth opens.Suck suck blow.He presses down on my clit, causing me to whimper.
He inches a finger inside me and then stops. "Fuck." His voice is deep. "You're so tight. I think my cock should have the honour of stretching you open."
My eyes widen when I feel the bed dip. As he crawls down my body, I tremble from each kiss he leaves in his wake. By the time he's pulling my shorts off and pushing my knees up, I'm already on the edge. He nestles his shoulders between my legs.
The back of my head hits the pillow as he kisses from my knee to the inner flesh of my quivering thigh.
"You've got fucking amazing legs."
I feel the cool air and my cheeks instantly flush, knowing he's looking at me—open to him. Then his thumb begins to stroke me worshipfully, exploring my lips and clit. I let out a slow, longing moan. And as I do, his tongue dips and that beautiful friction from his cheeks and chin rub on the most sensitive parts of me. I dig my fingers into the pillowon either side of my head. A soft whimper leaves my mouth. God, he knows what he's doing.
He hums when my hips thrust up on their own accord. I can’t stop them. As his tongue starts to lap with more purpose, his lips devouring me, I become completely undone. Unravelled. His hand slides under my backside and when his fingers skate around my bum hole, I let them. Like them, even. Nothing is off-limits to Max Butcher.
My belly button and toes tingle.
My knees and thighs quiver.
He takes his time with me, but when the tide of my orgasm rushes up my legs, my clit buzzing against his tongue, he abruptly stops and blows on my skin.
"Max," I plead.
"Ask me to make you come." There's amusement in his voice.
I groan. "Make me come, Max."
He chuckles. "Say please, Little One."
