He grips me harder and begins to fuck me with his tongue, in and out, until I’m crying out with frustration. I’m so close. So damn close.
After a million years of blissful torture, he relents. His hot, wet mouth settles over that straining, aching nub, flicking it, licking it, circling it. I scream with the force of my orgasm. White spots dance behind my closed lids as my core clenches over and over, and still he’s licking me, wringing every last spasm from my lit-up body.
But he’s not done.
Once my apocalyptic climax has finally subsided, I expect him to stop.
He doesn’t.
He keeps licking me, and my cries of ecstasy turn into squeals of discomfort as he sucks that hyper-sensitive little nub of flesh, rolling it between his lips, still holding me unerringly in place so there’s nowhere to go.
No escape.
All I can do is lie there and take it, my whole body jerking, until it once more begins to feel good.
Shit. He’s starting all over again.
“Please.” My voice sounds like it’s coming from somewhere very far away.
He laps at my pussy for a few more delicious, awful seconds, then lifts his handsome head. “Yes, little Omega?”
I hesitate. I don’t even really know what I’m asking for. “Please… I need...”
“Tell me what you need,” he purrs.
I shake my head. I can’t ask him for what I really want. “Please stop.”
“Is that true?” His fingers still.
No!My hips jerk, silently begging.
With a chuckle, he resumes what he was doing. I fist my hands at my sides to keep from grabbing his thick hair so I can rub my pussy against his face.
When a thick finger slides up inside my sopping poon, I let out a groan. “God… please!”
He ignores me, still sucking and licking my clit, and now sliding that digit in and out of my core, stroking, exploring, until he finds the spot deep inside me which makes me give an inhuman cry.
“Pleasepleaseplease…” The pleading chant reaches my ears—mypleading chant. My throat is raspy. How long have I been begging?
“Please, what?” This time, he doesn’t even lift his head, and his words are muffled by my sizzling, sensitive flesh.
I grit my teeth. I want to tell him to stop. But I’ll die if he does. “I can’t…”
“You can’t… what?”
I can’t take it anymore, I want to say, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction. Instead, I bite my lip and start to recite times tables in my head in a vain attempt to distract myself from the sensations, the scent, the way a second thick finger joins the first, and begins to thrust. Hard.
“You’re enjoying this, little Omega,” he says, in between licks. “Your voice may protest but the copious slick weeping from this delicious little cunt tells me otherwise. You want this.”
No!His words make me shiver, and I try again to wriggle out of his iron grip.
“I’m not going to stop. I’m going to do this for as long as it takes…”
Don’t ask. Don’t ask.“For as long as it takes to… what?” I hear myself say.Damn.
“For you to beg me.”
“Iambegging you! Please!” The last word is a frustrated, petulant squeal.
