“My tongue, suck on it.” He grinned wide. “Remember when you bit me?”
“Oh, I remember perfectly well.” I glared.
“Well, how else will you get a taste of relief? I could also just spit in your?—”
“Not necessary. Let us get this over with.”
This was an odd method. I would rather he just spit in a cup.
He leaned over me, sticking his long tongue out of his mouth, the two split ends curled at the bottom and hanging above my lips.
I felt an embarrassed flush appear across my face as I opened my mouth.
As I went up on my toes to take his tongue into my mouth, he jerked it up out of my reach.
“You rat, are you just pulling my leg?” I hit his chest.
“No, I just wanted to see you like that a little longer.” A handsome smirk graced his face. He offered his tongue again.
I reluctantly leaned up and took the tip of it into my mouth. I sucked on it gently, which prompted a sound from Silas.
Did he just whimper?
I studied his reaction through my lashes, his attention dedicated only to me.
He held me closer and leaned down, allowing me to take in more.
Our tongues mingled with each other restlessly. I sucked on his again, biting it softly when it ventured too close to the back of my throat.
He looked flustered at the motions.
I hated that he was right about his saliva being the miracle cure for migraines. I could feel the throbbing dull as the minutes passed. As my mind cleared, I wondered more about his tender reaction.
Could it be that their mouths were more sensitive because it was the only place that held an antidote to their own poison? This discovery was prompting a rather salacious curiosity.
I pulled away, and his tongue slipped out of my mouth, returning from whence it came.
“Come. I want to see something.” I pulled on his arm.
Leading him into the cozy glow of the living room, I stopped in front of the fireplace. It was crackling with a small fire, lighting our figures in the night.
“Down,” I demanded, pointing at the floor.
“I don’t think so,” he said stubbornly.
I leaned in, playing with the edge of his shirt. “Do you expect me to climb you? Get on your knees, Silas.”
His eyes widened at my demand as he slowly complied. The expression on his face was full of intrigue. This view of him was nice. He sat on his knees in front of me, at my disposal.
I ran my thumb over his bottom lip before tugging at thecorner of his mouth. I brought my face closer, leaning over him. “Open,” I breathed.
He leaned up to kiss me, cupping my hand on his cheek with his own. It did not take a skilled interpreter to see how much he wanted this, how hard he was restraining himself as our lips met.
I pressed my tongue to the roof of his mouth. His tongue cradled mine, asking for more, to feel more, to taste more.
As our kiss deepened, I put my arms around his neck, lowering myself onto his lap as he sat back on his heels.
Reluctance was apparent between the pleasure and the restraint he so obediently practiced. It brought me joy knowing I could make a creature like him mewl for me, beg for me without a single word.
