I might not know why she’s on the run, why she thinks she wouldn’t be able to form connections, grow roots, stay in one place and bloom, but I see how special she is.
She saysI’mthe one who brightens everything around me, but I see something kindred in her.
So distanced from everyone else, for whatever reasons of her own, I recognize the lonely soul inside. And I hope, if just for a couple of nights, I can make her feel seen, felt, and appreciated. That’s a gift I can leave her with, something she can take with her when she’s off to wherever is next.
And maybe, just maybe, it’s a seed I can plant that’ll take root in her and, over time, convince her she’s worth everything she wants and more. That there’s someone out there she can let in and share all of herself with. The way I wish for too.
So I’m not exaggerating when I say she has me wrapped around her finger. The finger I’m watching drag over her pussy so softly, so slowly, it’s like she’s trying to be my undoing.
My breaths come out ragged, heavier than they should for someone who’s just kneeling, watching. Her chest rises and falls in time with mine, that gorgeous face of hers drawn tight, focusing on the pleasure she’s bringing herself, and I take it in. The sight of her, soaking with her need, wet with my cum, writhing on her back, fingers on herself, right where I wish my mouth could be.
“You’re so fucking perfect, angel,” I whisper roughly.
Her eyes squeeze tight at that, face looking pained for a second, before she opens them again.
“Don’t say that.”
“Sorry, but I’m not a liar,” I tell her, eyes focused between her thighs, where her fingers are starting to slip beneath the edge of fabric keeping this final mystery from me.
One delicate finger slides beneath the material and pulls it to the side, finally allowing me to see what’s overtaken my fantasies, my waking dreams.
Soft. Pink. Glistening. Worthy of a thousand more dreams and then some.
“Perfect,” I growl.
She moans, releasing the fabric, letting it stay to one side of her pussy, leaving it on display for me.
“I knew the rest of you would be just as gorgeous, but this?” I blow out a shaky breath, and I know she can hear what I can’t find the words for. I settle for, “Fuck, darlin’.”
Unable to help myself, I dive down between her legs and press my face as close as I can without touching her skin, following the rules we set for tonight. Inhaling deeply, I let her scent fill my nostrils, mouth watering at the musky, feminine scent that I cantastefrom here. Hands quivering with the needto feel her for myself, I pop back up to my knees before I break my word.
I need to know what it feels like to be wrapped in her warmth, how tight she is, how hot and wet. What she tastes like when she comes. From my current vantage point, I can finally visualize what it would look like to sink two fingers into her, the sight of her stretching around me as I prep her to take more.
My cock stands at attention, ready for duty, but this isn’t about him right now.
“Let me see,” I tell her softly.
“You wanna see what you do to me?” she asks, an offer to flip the table.
“God, yes.”
Amelia takes her two middle fingers and runs them from the top of her slit, down over her clit, and through all the wetness waiting for her there as she nears her center. I watch as her fingers part the folds, working their way right down her middle, and dip into that honeypot that’s waiting there.
It’s all I can do to stay put as her fingers disappear, knuckle by knuckle, and I watch her body twitch and buck under the intrusion. She pulls out until her hand is free again, and she holds it up for my inspection.
Soaked, damn near dripping in all that nectar. Saliva pools in my mouth, wishing I could take her fingers into my mouth and test it for myself, get a mouthful of her taste, but I stay still.
“I’ve had to fuck my toy so many times since that first night I’m surprised it hasn’t died yet,” she admits, watching my gaze darken on hers.
That fucking toy. I’ve never been so jealous of silicone in my life. Getting to do the job I wish I could’ve every night. Several times a night, I’d bet.
I know exactly which one she means too. May have spent an insane number of hours scouring through websites until I foundthe exact one so I could order it for myself and see exactly what she likes. All part of my prep for tomorrow.
“There’s no toy here tonight, Amelia. You’re gonna have to show me how gorgeous you are when you come with just your fingers.”
She nods, her head moving in place against the comforter that will never look the same after tonight.
Her hand, those soaking wet fingers, drop down to her pussy once more and she uses the pads of her two middle fingers to start to rub her clit. The impulse I have to drop down with her, to lean in and lick her fingers clean, suck that swollen clit like her favorite toy does until she’s drenching my face instead of my bedspread, it’s tough to master control over my base desires right now, but I should get points for effort here.
