“Still good?” I ask.
She nods, smiling, brown eyes sparkling. “So good.”
My hands skim her inner thighs, tracing patterns into her skin. She squirms, and I can’t help the way I groan quietly…because she’s already so warm, so ready, and I haven’t even gotten started. I can scent her nectar filling the room, panties soaked with arousal.
“I want to taste you,” I murmur. “May I?”
She nods again, breath catching. “Please.”
Gently, I nudge her backward so she’s lying against the table, her sweater hitched up around her waist. I groan in satisfaction at the sight of her wet panties, dark and glistening, drenched. I kneel to press a kiss to the curve of her hip, then another, then another, working my way down.
When I tug the fabric down and off, she shivers—and then she gasps when I drag my tongue along her inner thigh.
“You taste so much sweeter than I imagined,” I breathe. “The prettiest flower…”
“Did you imagine it a lot?”
I glance up to find her propped up on her elbows, watching me, and I smile. “More than you know.”
I grin and reach for one of the small vials on the edge of the table, filled with pale golden honey we harvested from the heliotropis grove earlier this week. It’s warm and heady, laced with natural aphrodisiac properties so mild they’re usually only used for relaxation.
I uncap it, dip my fingers in, then let a thin drizzle trail along the top of her thigh.
She shudders, gasping.
“Holy…what was that?!”
“Just honey,” I chuckle. “It will make you more…open. More sensitive.”
“I’m already sensitive,” she groans.
I laugh now. “Then I’ll be gentle.”
But before she can respond, I’m licking a long line up her pussy.
The taste of her mixed with the honey is unreal. She’s sweet and rich and responsive, one hand fisting the edge of the table, the other tangling in my hair. Her thighs shake, tremble, toes curling as she rests her feet on my shoulders.
“Garrik!”
“I’ve got you, Iris,” I groan.
I’m never letting you go, I think.
When I finally ease a thick finger inside her, she arches off the table with a soft cry.
“Too much?” I ask.
She shakes her head, brow furrowed. “No…no, it’s good. You’re just…big.”
“I’ll go slow,” I promise, pressing a kiss to her belly. “Want to make sure you’re ready. Want you to feel good.”
“I do,” she says, voice shaking. “I really do.”
I lick and suck, slow and steady, and she rocks her hips toward me as I add another thick finger. The honey is working its magic, her pussy sucking on my fingers and telling me how much she wants more. She keeps moving, keeps rocking her hips, her swollen clit getting all the attention while I thrust my fingers into her.
“You’re doing so good for me, Iris,” I murmur. “But I need to stretch you more before you can take me.”
“I can do it?—”
