She sucked in a breath and moaned, her chest rising toward him.
He flicked it again, teasing the rosy flesh into a tight little peak. Satisfied with the one, he switched to the other and sucked it into his mouth, flicking the nipple until it matched the first.
Amelie’s fingers curled around the back of his neck, holding him close as he slipped lower, kissing a gentle path down her torso, touching each rib on his way to the prize.
Her body tensed as he cupped her sex in his palm and slid a finger into her hot, wet channel. She sucked in a shaky breath and moaned his name, “Maurice.”
“Want me to stop?” he asked.
Her hips bucked. “Don’t,” she gasped. “Stop. Please. I’m on fire.”
Maurice slipped his hands beneath her buttocks and used his thumbs to part her folds, baring her glistening pussy to him.
She was so wet. So ready.
Knowing he’d done that to her made his cock even harder. He wanted her. But more than that, he wanted to make her as crazy for him as he was for her. He wanted her to come before he sank into her and slaked his own desires.
Maurice dipped a finger into her channel and swirled in her juices. With his wet finger, he gently stroked her clit, moving slowly at first, then increasing the speed with each pass until she writhed against the sheets.
But she wasn’t quite there. He wanted her so lost in the moment that she came with full abandon.
He blew a stream of air over her heated core and then closed his mouth over her, sucking her clit between his lips.
She gasped, bucked and moaned. Her fingers dug into his scalp. Her hips rose from the mattress, and her back arched.
She was close.
Maurice could feel the tension build in her body. When he flicked her clit again, she cried out, “Oh, sweet Jesus! I can’t breathe.”
He lifted his head, afraid he’d somehow hurt her.
Her fingers dug into his scalp, urging him back to the task. “For the love of—” she said raggedly, “Don’t. Stop!”
He complied, his tongue stroking her at her most sensitive spot until her body jerked, she stiffened and she rode her release all the way to the last flick of his tongue.
Amelie dropped back to the mattress and flung her arms out to her sides. “Am I dead?”
Maurice chuckled. “No, you’re quite alive.”
“I swear I died and floated all the way to heaven.”
“Well, welcome back.” Maurice climbed up her body and kissed her lips.
She opened her eyes and stared up into his, their faces warm in the glow of the lamplight. “You’re not stopping now, are you?”
He couldn’t stop now. Watching her lose herself only made him want her more. But it was her choice. “It’s up to you.”
“Don’t stop. I believe I have another orgasm in me, and I want to have it,” she leaned up and brushed his lips, “with yours.”
His cock twitched with impatience. Maurice leaned across, grabbed the condom and tore it open.
Amelie took it from him and rolled it over his straining member. Then she guided him to her.
His body thrummed with the need to plunge inside her slick entrance. He remained poised for launch, counted to five and fought to regain control. Otherwise, he’d blow his wad like a teenager having sex with a girl for his first time.
Before he reached five, her hands gripped his hips and drove him home. All the way. Fully sheathed. Surrounded by warm, wet muscles, contracting around his length.
Drawing in a deep breath, he began to move in and out, gaining speed with each pass. Soon, he pumped like the piston in a sports car.
