“Don’t disappear like that again,” I whispered against his mouth, voice unsteady. My forehead pressed to his, and even though I tried to hold it back, I knew he saw it, that little flicker of vulnerability in my eyes. I hated how much it showed. But he needed to know.
“I won’t,” he said, his voice low and jagged. “I missed your chipper ass.”
A soft gasp slipped when he yanked me forward, dragging me flush against him. He leaned me back on the table making me the dessert.
I didn’t even wait. I lifted my legs and placed them on his shoulders like Iknewwhat time it was.
And baby, I was right.
He didn’t say a damn word. I watched his eyes drag over me, land on my pussy, and stay there like it was the only thing that existed. There was something sohungryin his face, so serious, like this wasn’t just about sex. Like I was a luxury, he felt privileged to taste me, as if I were some imported delicacy.
And the way he dipped into me?
Proved that I was.
His mouth was everything, wet, greedy, slow, methodical. He licked me like he’d been starved for forty days and nights. Like hemissedit. Like hemissedme.
And I wanted to cry and cuss and laugh and scream, because the way he moved, the way heate—it felt like he was trying to say something without words.
He gripped my thighs tighter when I rocked against his face, chasing the high he was building slowly and intentionally.
“Stop moving and let me feast, baby,” he growled between strokes.
My whole body jerked.
I whimpered, an ugly, raw sound I didn’t mean to let out, and that only made him smile against me. I felt it. Felt his tongue flick against my clit. He kept playing with me, teasing to pull back, then burying deeper just when I thought I had a grip on reality.
He was showing out.
My fingers clawed for anything solid, I found his head and held on like my life depended on it. I tried to guide him, but he already knew. Already had me figured out.
Lazy circles turned into long strokes. Then fast flicks right when I thought he’d go gentle. It was agamefor him, and I was losing every damn round.
“Lesley, please, please baby?—”
“Please, baby, what?”
“Let me cum. I can’t take it anymore.”
His mouth latched onto my clit, and just like that, I snapped.
My body locked up, then untangled all at once. I came hard, legs shaking on his shoulders, breath caught in my throat. My whole body trembled.
But he didn’t stop.
Didn’t eventhinkabout stopping.
He kept going, as if he needed something else. Like the orgasm wasn’t the goal. Like I was the goal.
He slowed me down, let me fall a little, then pulled me right back up. The second one hit harder. I clawed at the table, trying to get away, but he held me down.
Made me feel him.
By the time he stood, mouth glistening, dick rock hard against his joggers, I felt like I’d been through a ritual.
Because I had.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, slow, deliberate, like he wanted me to see exactly what he’d just done. Then he leaned in, lips grazing my ear, voice low and unshakable.
