The last laugh was on me, though, as I got him so worked up he was in a right frenzy, his hands twisting the bedcover. With one last lingering suck, I sat back on my heels and watched as he hovered on the brink, his handsome face tense with frustration.
See how it feels, Mr Romance?
I couldn’t hide my smirk, and it riled him so much that he unceremoniously stripped me and lavished his tongue over my nipples while teasing my slippery clit with his fingers, drawing out the pleasure but denying me release until I was nearly screaming.
Then, reader, I stripped and stalked him until he was backed up against one of the bedposts, gorgeous and grinning, his tempestuous eyes challenging me. I poised on all fours like a cat, ready to pounce, considering which bit of his luscious form to devour first.
Launching at his irresistible lips, we kissed open-mouthed, exploring tenderly with our tongues, as he slid a sly finger inside me, being careful to avoid my clit. Sneaky! But god, it felt good. I stroked my own fingers over his stiff cock, enjoying the feel of him wet and wanting, and he gave a deep throaty groan. ‘Can you suck me again?’
I smiled to myself. ‘Sure.’
But I took my time, kissing his chest and abs thoroughly, making him more and more agitated, before swirling my tongue around the tip of his salty, slick cock. Holding the back of my head firm, he eagerly slid into my open mouth, driving deeply—the sound of his moans and profanities filling the curtained space.
Goodbye, Rochester. Hello, Heathcliff ...
I let him fuck my mouth until his panting intensified, then inch by maddening inch withdrew, leaving his cock twitching and his eyes on fire. ‘This could go on all night,’ he said huskily.
‘I’m up for that,’ I answered, liking the way his half-lidded eyes browsed my breasts, lingered on my hard nipples, and dropped to my pussy.
‘Swap places. I want to taste you.’
So here I am, naked, clutching a bedpost and begging for him to take me over the edge.
‘Dain,please!’
He grasps my hips, then lowers me onto his warm waiting tongue, and I groan in relief as the flat of it rasps my throbbing clit. Wet, muffled noises of enjoyment sound from below, though by the way I’m moaning and rutting my hips, I think I’m the one who’s enjoying it more.
His fingers explore my entrance as I ride his mouth. One of them drifts farther south. Caught up in the moment, I don’t mind. Klint and I experimented, but he wasn’t into anal, so it never went very far.He was never really into any of it. Not like this.But still, as Dain’s wandering finger probes deeper, it’s a bit too intimate.
‘Hmm, maybe not,’ I protest, and he instantly withdraws his finger and doesn’t touch me there again. It makes me recall the graphic threesome scene in the Sophronia series, where our girl had a guy in front rubbing her breasts and clit and another underneath giving her oral and doing what Dain just did—which she enjoyed, of course. Sophronia seems to enjoy anything that’s done to her, front and back.
Dain’s attention changes focus; and as I expected from his books, he knows exactly what he’s doing—licking, twirling, and sucking my clit greedily into his mouth. Heat pools low in my belly, then rages through my bloodstream. Gasping in pleasure,I hug the bedpost for dear life, succumbing fully to his expert tongue.
I’m on the verge of a soul-shattering orgasm when he scoots out from underneath, removes my hands from the post, and gently lays me down next to him. I’m quivering with desire and reverberating with frustration as he holds me.
‘Hey, I’m sorry about doingthat—you know, with my finger ...’ he whispers.
‘It’s OK, I’m more pissed off you didn’t let me come.’
Dain grins and, moving on top of me, strokes his hard cock over my highly sensitive pussy. ‘Maybe this will help you out.’
I moan at the friction, thinking he’s going to enter me, and I’m more than ready. But ever the gentleman, he waits to be asked to dip his quill into the inkpot. Just as I’m about to say he can, that I’m using protection, he pants, ‘Oh, I’m close.’ Then his hand rapidly strokes my aching clit. I’m lost in bliss, our hips writhing, when he cries, ‘Lizzy, oh fuck yes!’ And I’m right there too, his squeezing fingers sending me to heaven.
Afterwards, we lie with our limbs entangled, sweaty foreheads touching, breathing hard.
‘You’re amazing,’ Dain whispers.
‘You are too,’ I whisper back.
He kisses me and peels off my body. I look down and see the sticky result of his orgasm covering my breasts and stomach.
‘Stay there. I’ll fetch a wet cloth.’
‘Thanks.’
He gets down from the bed and heads to the bathroom, and I lie there, starfishing in a happy daze. I feel euphoric, like I’ve taken a heady drug. Dain appears again and wipes my body gently with a warm washcloth, which feels wonderful. Thank God for hot water. Clean-up is hardly romantic as it is, but it would be infinitely worse with ice-cold water. He takes off back to the bathroom again with the cloth, and feeling parched, I prop myself on one elbow to take a sip of water from the tumbler on his nightstand.
RightingLes Soeurs Brontë, I tell them, ‘It’s OK, you can look now.’ Then I hop under the bedcover, black silk sheets sliding icily around my heated body. Nice!
