She squirms. “But I… I need to get to work, I?—”
“No.” I press my thumb to her clit, and she trembles, biting her lip to keep quiet. “I’m not finished playing with you yet.”
“Oh God.” Sydney’s head tips back, hips bucking against my hand.
She’s so easy to read, so fucking responsive to my touch. Every breath, every movement, tells me exactly where she needs it. It’s mesmerizing, fuckingenchanting, to watch her.
“That’s it,” I encourage her when her breathing hitches, and her legs start to shake. “Fuck yourself on my fingers, just like that. Soak my hand like a good slut.”
It takes so little to make her come. She grips my arm when she falls over that edge, shuddering against me, and it’s the most irresistible thing I’ve ever seen. I drink in every second of it, memorizing the way her face flushes, the way her eyes go hooded, and her gaze loses focus.
“What’s the record for how many times a man has made you come?” I ask. I slide my thumb off her clit, but keep my fingers inside her, slowly easing her through the aftershocks.
“W-what?” she asks, still gasping for breath.
I curl my finger, just the way she likes it, catching her around the waist when her legs shake so hard she almost falls back against the mattress. “Give me a number, love. How many times has a man made you come in one night?”
Her grip on my arm is a vise, fingernails digging into my skin. I don’t mind, I’ve never shied away from pain. “I, I don’t know,” she tells me.
“Yes, you do.” I slide my fingers out of her and press them against her clit, a little harder than I should, just a little more pressure than would be pleasurable. “Don’t lie to me.”
She gasps, but her hips roll forward, pressing against my touch. “T-two!”
Only two? A wide, feral smile spreads over my face. Oh, I can beat that. That’snothing.
It takes longer for her to come this time, but I’m in no hurry. I alternate between a little too light, and a little too rough, keeping her on the edge, toying with her, until finally she breaks, screaming and clawing at me. She almost falls again, but I hold her tightly against me, taking her weight. Her thighs snap together, trapping my hand against her, but I keep playing, pulling every last bit of pleasure from her I can.
She’s a beautiful mess when her pleasure finally subsides. Panting, shaking against me, sweat glistening on her golden skin. My beautiful mess.
“Lie back on the bed,” I order, kissing her cheek and slowly taking my fingers away. I bring them to my mouth, licking the taste of her from them. “Spread your legs for me.”
I expect her to argue, but she doesn’t. She’s still fighting to catch her breath as she positions herself on the mattress, lying on her back and letting her knees fall open.
Fuck she’s perfect. Obedient.
I take my time drinking in the sight of her, committing every inch of her to memory before I crawl over the bed, stopping when I’m kneeling between her open legs. She watches me, eyes wide, chest rising and falling with her breath.
“If you say stop, I stop,” I tell her, holding her gaze. “Do you understand?”
I need her to understand. I need to know I’m not pushing her too far this time. I need to know she wants it, all of it, everything I want to give her.
Even if this is just a taste of it.
Sydney nods quickly, biting her lower lip.
I lean over her, mouth hovering over her nipple. “What do you say if you want me to stop?”
“I’ll say ‘stop,’” she answers.
“Good.” I circle her nipple just once with my tongue before taking it in my mouth and biting down.
She gasps, hips bucking off the mattress. Her hands thread through my hair, grabbing a handful and pulling. But she doesn’t tell me to stop, and when I bite her again, sliding my teeth over her sensitive skin, she yanks on my hair to pull me closer.
She’s too overstimulated for me to use my fingers again so soon. I bite my way down her stomach, leaving suck marks and hickies, stopping when I’m between her legs.
Her fingers are still tangled in my hair when I lick a line up her center, pausing at her clit. She pulls away from me, just a little, when I close my lips over it, already sore. But I’m patient,unhurried. I could do this forever. I could die right now, with her taste in my mouth and my tongue circling her clit, and I would die satisfied. I have her exactly how I always wanted her—wet, dripping, sweaty, and shaking underneath me.
When she finally breaks, her hips jolt, trying to rise off the bed, and I have to pin her thighs open to keep her still. I hold her in place, not letting up, not giving her even a moment to recover, until she collapses back, gasping for breath.
