“Starting with?”
I looked up the length of her body to meet her gaze. “Starting with how sweet you taste when you’ve been waiting for me…. Spread yourself and show me how bad you want me." Her thighs parted on instinct, just enough to invite me. She glistened with moisture, and the scent made my stomach literally growl.
I slid my palms higher, thumbs brushing the crease where leg met hip, and eased her back until her shoulders met the wall again. “Stay right there,” I said, voice low. “Hands flat on the wall and don’t move them unless I say.”
She released my hair immediately and pressed her palms flat against plaster, back arching a little so her breasts lifted. Perfect obedience wrapped in mischief. Her eyes never left mine.
“Good girl.”
The soft sound she made at those two words went straight to my dick and made it twitch. It was torture seeing her obey me so perfectly while not being buried in her, but knowing the effect I had on her made it worth the wait.
I kissed the inside of one thigh, open-mouthed, letting her feel teeth for just a second. Then the other thigh, higher, closer, until my breath ghosted over her slick folds. She was so swollen and ready. Three weeks without me had left her greedy. I couldn’t believe what a lucky man I was.
I traced her with the flat of my tongue once, slow from entrance to clit, savoring the way her hips tried to chase me. It was cute, but I hadn't given her permission for it yet.
“Stay still,” I reminded her, pressing one firm hand to her lower belly to hold her in place.
She whimpered but obeyed, thighs trembling.
I did it again—slower, parting her with my thumbs so I could lick deeper. Her juices flooded my mouth with their sharp, sweet flavor, and I groaned against her core. My restraint was fraying, but this was about showing her who she belonged to, how thoroughly I owned every inch of her pleasure.
I circled her clit with the tip of my tongue, teasing, then closed my lips around it and sucked gently. Her head thumped back against the wall.
“Oh god. Please…” The word cracked out of her, drawing a grin to my lips as I flicked my tongue over that sensitive bud again.
“Please what?”
“Please don’t stop. Please, I need?—”
“Need what, baby?” I slid one finger inside her, just to the first knuckle, curling slowly. She clenched hard around it. “Tell me exactly.”
“I need you to make me come,” she whispered. “Need you to take care of me.”
"Mmm," I hummed, pulling my mouth back. I felt the chill in the air meet the moisture on my face and grinned at it. "Please, who?" I asked, knowing exactly what she was going to say and how it would make me feel. My dick was probably gushing precum right now. And I wasn't ready for the jolt when she finally spoke.
"Please, Daddy… Eat my pussy so good. Make me squirt on your face." Veda's eyes met mine as I looked up at her and her words made my entire body shudder.
“That’s my girl.”
I pushed my finger deeper, added a second, and set a steady rhythm while my mouth returned to her clit. Slow strokes at first, then faster when her breathing turned ragged. Every time her hips tried to rock I pressed her back to the wall with my forearm, controlling every sensation.
Her fingers curled against the plaster like she wanted to grab my hair but remembered the rule. The effort it took her to stay still made the whole thing filthier.
I curled my fingers harder, rubbing that spot inside that I knew unraveled her. My tongue flicked faster, relentless. She was dripping down my chin, down my hand, thighs shaking so hard I had to tighten my grip to keep her upright.
“Right there—oh god—don’t stop?—”
I didn’t. I kept the pressure perfect, steady, merciless, until her whole body locked up. She came with a broken cry, pulsing around my fingers, flooding my tongue. I worked her through it, relenting only when she started to sag and her knees went weak.
When I finally pulled back, her knees buckled. I caught her before she slid down the wall, wrapping an arm around her waist and guiding her the two steps to the bed. She collapsed onto it, chest heaving, hair wild across the pillow.
I stood over her, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, watching the aftershocks ripple through her.
“Look at you,” I said softly. “All flushed and trembling because I told you to hold still.”
She gave a weak, sated laugh, reaching for me, but I stood back, not letting her touch.
I stayed just out of reach, letting her fingers grasp empty air. Her eyes followed every movement as I loosened my cufflinks and set them on the nightstand. Shirt buttons came next, one by one, slow enough I could count her breaths. When the fabric parted, I shrugged it off and let it fall.
