Instinct guides me, and I’m grinding with his pace, rocking with his movements.
I’m climbing—
And like he feels it, too, like he needs me to arch with the crushing pleasure within my reach, to unravel on his tongue and hand, that control slips away from him.
He moves like he needs me—like he’s been holding this back and can’t wait anymore.
I meet him just as desperately, grinding closer, chasing the friction, the heat.
My hand drops and I grab a fistful of his hair.
It’s my first time—
Never donethisbefore.
Never had it done to me.
It’s fucking bliss.
Every breath is a gasp, a hitch, a moan.
The harsher my breaths, the more my body moves with his tongue. The closer I inch, the tighter my hand fists in his hair.
The blackout swallows my moans, moans that hitch into a string of broken whines.
Like he senses it, feels it rising in me, the end, the fireworks, the electricity I chase on his mouth, he presses further against me—
And latches onto my clit.
His tongue flicks, then he sucks, his tongue flicks, then he sucks, and he does it so well, so quickly, that I’m spilling over.
My head throws back against the wall.
A guttural shout shudders through me.
Rigid over his shoulder, my leg trembles against the static pulsing through my whole body.
Stars erupt in my eyes.
My nails are dragging over the wainscotting, and I’m certain the blackout is swallowing a groaned curse from my lips.
His tongue slows on my bud.
I twitch against him, the tender lick at my core, slowing and slowing until it ends with a final chaste kiss that shudders me.
He brings me down from my high with a gentleness I didn’t know he had in him.
That was nothing like the first time we experienced each other.
There’s no awkwardness, not when he had his tongue travelling my core, not now that he rests his forehead on my pelvic bone, letting the heat of his breaths graze over me.
There’s no hesitation. No second-guessing.
Something just fits now.
For one reckless, buzzing moment, I wonder—
I wonder if he likes me this way.
