Her gaze flickers, a hint of defiance warring with the desperate need in her eyes.
"Or we can stop now," I offer, my tone casual, as if the thought of not tasting her isn't a form of exquisite torture. "If you really think you can't handle it."
"No," she says, the word a desperate, choked whisper. "No, I can. I'll be good."
I lean down and press a kiss to the silky skin of her thigh.
"You better," I warn and blow gently on her clit.
She gasps, her hips bucking off the bed.
I ignore her desperate pleas and my own selfish desire, and lower my head.
I don't start with her clit.
I start well above it, the soft skin just below her stomach
She's right. She is too close, so I need to make it last.
I start with open-mouthed kisses all along the crease of her thigh, my tongue swirling, tasting the salty-sweet evidence of her arousal splashed all over it, before moving to the other side.
Her breath hitches.
Her thighs tremble.
I can feel the tension coiling in her body, the desperate, frantic energy of a woman on the verge of losing control.
I keep teasing her, licking and sucking the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, driving her mad with the promise of what's to come.
"Please," she whimpers, her hips bucking, a desperate attempt to get closer, to force the contact she craves. "Please, Sir."
I smile against her skin.
She's not the first woman to call me that. It's no secret, but the word on her lips is different. It feels like more than a title, an honorific.
It feels like a confession. A hard-earned surrender on both sides.
And it's the most beautiful thing I've ever heard.
It makes my chest ache with an emotion I'm not ready to name, an emotion that's more dangerous, more powerful, than any desire I've ever felt.
I push the thought aside.
There will be time for that later.
Right now, I have a woman to break.
By the time I've finally finished having every bit of her outer skin with lips and tongue, she's a writhing, sobbing mess, her pleas a desperate, incoherent jumble of begs and whimpers.
That's when I finally give her what she wants.
I roll my eyes up to look at her face, her glassy eyes were locked on me.
I part her folds with my tongue, a slow lick from entrance to clit that has her crying out, her back arching off the bed.
She tastes divine.
Sweet and tangy, like honey and champagne.
