"Tell me what you want," she says.
I close my eyes and swallow hard. Then catch her wrist, bring her hand to my chest.
"Come here first." I pull her into me, cover her mouth with mine.
The kiss is slow, deep, grounding, a redirection of my desperation.She melts into it. I use the moment, focus on her lips, her taste, the warmth of her body until I can't feel my heartbeat in my cock anymore. I'm still hard as steel, but the knife edge of need has dulled. Not much, but enough.
In seconds, her hand is wrapped around my cock, stroking slow, like she's enjoying the feel of me in her palm.
She leans back to break the kiss, still stroking me. "Tell me what to do, Grey. Tell me what you want."
There are too many answers, most I couldn't speak. So I guide her between my thighs. Watch her settle on her stomach, propped on her elbows, the position pressing her tits together, the fresh marks on her pale flesh visible. Her face is right there, just inches from my cock. When her breath ghosts across it, it twitches.
Her eyes wide. "It moved."
"It does that," I say on a little chuckle. "Get comfortable. Start with touch." I wait, trying not to think about her tits pressed against me while she shifts around, then reaches out to wrap her hand around me. This part she knows--she watches my face, learning, curious. Then my cock, her eyes growing hungry again. "Now your tongue. The tip to start."
Tentatively, she leans in, tongue extended, and licks the cleft.
The shock of it--wet heat, soft tongue--kicks the air from my lungs. My body snaps, every muscle locking with a jerk. My hand flies to the back of her neck, gripping her hair gently just to hang on.
The sight alone--Molly between my thighs, her tongue on my cock--could end me.
She pulls back slightly, thoughtful. Then leans back in and licks again, this time broader, tonguing the slit when she reaches the top.
"Soft," she mutters as I try and fail and keep my cool. "Keep licking?"
A shudder works through me. "If you want. Or you can .take me into your mouth Just the tip. Suck gently--"
She wraps her lips around me, and my vision whites out. Soft lips stretched, tongue pressing the underside--I can't think. Can't breathe. Every nerve ending fires at once.
Molly, learning me. Wanting me.
It's almost too much to bear.
"Fuck--oh my fuck-"
Emboldened, she experiments, tongue flicking, paying attention to what makes me react and leaning into it. Learning. Watching.
Fast learner. Too fast.
"Take more if you want. As much as you can."
She slides me deeper, inch by inch, mouth stretching around me. I close my eyes. If I watch her I'm fucked.
Until she gags, then pulls back, coughing. "Sorry--"
I stroke her face, her hair. "Don't. You're doing so good. Just go slow. Use your hand on what doesn't fit."
She tries again, this time stroking my base, her head bobbing slow at first. She finds a rhythm, mouth and hand working together, slow and deliberate. The suction. The wet sounds. Her drag of tongue.
I watch, transfixed. Her jaw is open wide, her mouth full of me, the concentration on her face, the little hum of satisfaction when I groan. She's enjoying this. Wants this. My chest tightens, something bigger than lust twisting through me.
I'm already close, torn between wanting to draw out my pleasure and putting me out of my misery. My sac is drawn up tight, thighs trembling. Every stroke of her tongue and pull of her lips drags me closer to the edge. I wanted it to last, wanted to memorize every second, the sight of her, the feel of her. But Ican't hold on. Not with her looking up at me like that, dark eyes full of heat and determination.
She owns me, completely.
She hollows her cheeks, and my back snaps off the bed.
