“I—the lines would show…” I say breathlessly, every nerve like a livewire ready to spark.
“Dirty girl.” His fingers trace higher, higher, and then he’s touching methere, and I actually sob. “Fuck, you’re so wet. Is this all for me?”
I can’t answer, can’t form words. His fingers are sliding through my slick heat, exploring, testing, while every brush against my clit sends sparks shooting through my body, those livewires leading to dynamite. I’ve touched myself before, of course. It’s my usual Saturday night, but it’s never felt like this. It’s never felt like my entire nervous system is on fire.
“Answer me.” He circles my entrance with one finger, not quite pushing inside. “Is this pretty little pussy wet for me?”
“Yes,” I gasp. “Yes. God, yes?—”
He slides one finger inside me, and I clench around him immediately, my whole body shuddering. He groans like I’ve wounded him.
“So tight. So fucking tight.” He adds a second finger, and I whimper, feeling the stretch, the fullness. “That’s it, darlin’. Take it. Take what I give you.”
He starts to move, his fingers pumping in and out while his thumb finds my clit and circles with devastating precision. I’m clinging to his shoulders, my nails digging into his shirt, and Ican feel something building inside me—a pressure, a tension, a wave that’s about to crash and drown me.
“Nate…” I pant. “I’m going to—I can’t?—”
“Come for me like a good girl,” he rasps. “Come right in my hand.”
The wave breaks.
I shatter with a cry that echoes off the buildings, my inner walls clamping down on his fingers as pleasure tears through me in relentless waves. It goes on and on, longer than any orgasm I’ve ever given myself, and he works me through every second of it, his fingers never stopping, his thumb never slowing, until I’m trembling and gasping and completely wrecked.
“Oh, darlin’,” he breathes against my temple. “That’s my good girl.”
I’m still coming down, still trying to remember how to breathe, when he withdraws his fingers and drops to his knees.
I blink down at him, dazed. “What?—”
“I need to taste you.” He shoves my dress up around my waist, exposing me completely, and the look on his face is almost reverent. “Been thinking about this all evening, every evening, ever since I first laid eyes on you.” His heated gaze drops, and I feel his eyes burning me. “Just look at that gorgeous cunt. It needs to be worshipped.”
Before I can respond, he hooks one of my legs over his shoulder and buries his face between my thighs.
The first stroke of his tongue makes me cry out.
My back hits the glass barrier—that thin sheet of nothing between me and a thousand-foot drop—and I should be terrified, but I’m not. I can’t be, not when his mouth is on me, his tongue licking broadly, so hard and wet, before circling my oversensitive clit. Not when his hands are gripping my arse, holding me in place while he devours me like I’m the best thing he’s ever tasted.
“Oh God—oh fuck—Nate?—”
He groans against me, the vibration making me jerk, and then he’s sucking my clit into his mouth, and I’m a goner.
The second orgasm hits even harder than the first, ripping through me with an intensity that makes my vision blurry. I’m vaguely aware I’m screaming his name, both his names, that my fingers are fisted in his hair, that I’m grinding against his face like a woman possessed. It should be embarrassing, but it’s not. It’s the most incredible thing I’ve ever felt.
I don’t ever want it to stop.
And he doesn’t stop.
“One more,” he growls against my skin, his breath so hot. “Give me one more, darlin’.”
“I can’t—it’s too much?—”
“You can.” He slides two fingers back inside me, crooking them against a spot that makes me see stars. “You will.”
He attacks my clit with renewed determination, his tongue relentless, his fingers pumping, and I feel the third wave building impossibly fast. My legs are shaking. My whole body is shaking. The glass barrier creaks ominously behind me, and I don’t care—don’t care if it breaks, don’t care if I fall—because nothing matters except the devastating pleasure of his mouth and hands.
“Come,” he orders. “Come for me now.”
I obey.
