A small kiss. Then another, higher. And higher. The trail up my inner thigh is soft, unbearably slow, and every kiss sends a violent shiver up my spine. My entrance clenches helplessly, and my whole body arches with need for him.
He stops right in front of my pussy, close enough that his breath ghosts over me, and deliberately moves away, placing a kiss just below my navel. Then another on my lower belly. Then on the bone right above my pussy.
My eyes roll back.
“Beg for me once more, Kiara,” he whispers, lips brushing my skin right above my swollen clit. My breath stutters out of me.
“Fuck you.”
He smiles against my thigh, I feel it, right before his teeth sink gently into my skin. Not enough to break it, just enough to make me gasp.
Pain blooms, melts instantly into pleasure, and a whimper escapes my throat.
To hell with this man.
“Please, Kasien,” I breathe, hating how easy he makes it.
“You know,” he murmurs, voice low and maddeningly smug, “one sound from your lips and I’d fall to my knees for you. But the begging?” he smirks and exhales. “Irresistible.”
And then his tongue finally touches my clit. A moan tears straight out of me—loud, helpless, humiliating. My hips jerk up to meet his mouth, chasing the heat of him as he slides his tongue slowly through my pussy, teasing me with a long, deliberate stroke before circling my clit again and giving it the softest suck.
My back arches off the bench.
I can’t breathe. I can’t think.
He settles on a slow and tender pace with his tongue while his thumb slides down to my entrance, just teasing around it, and it’s almost embarrassing how fast everything inside me coils tight and shatters.
The orgasm hits me like someone yanked a wire straight from my spine down into my core, heat flooding my insides so hard I cry out.
My pussy clenches on nothing, empty, throbbing, dripping. I can feel the wetness pooling under me. And right at the peak, when my whole body seizes and breaks open, he pushes two fingers inside me. I cry out so loud the sound echoes through the gym.
Six years. Six years of imagining this. Of missing him.
Of course I’m falling apart from the first touch.
“That was too easy. Give me one more.” His voice drops into something feral, and before I can even breathe, his mouth is back on my clit while his fingers curl inside me like he owns every inch of me.
I’m going insane.
The first orgasm barely leaves my body before the next one starts coiling low in my spine—heavier, deeper, ready to tear me apart.
I moan his name, hate myself for it, then moan it again, louder, my feet sliding helplessly against his thighs.
His other hand slides under my ass, rough and bruising, holding me still so he can press my pussy tighter against his mouth.
He’s devouring me like he hasn’t eaten in days, and when I manage to look down, seeing the muscles in his arm flex, the scars catching the dim light, his fingers buried in me, rough and relentless, I snap.
The orgasm rips through me so violently I choke on his name. I lose my breath, my whole body shaking, legs completely limp on his thighs.
“Fuck you,” I exhale, collapsing entirely.
He finally lifts his head, licking my taste off his lips, but he keeps his fingers inside me, moving them slowly, watching them, savoring every pulse of my release. His other hand grabs my jaw, firm and possessive, forcing my gaze to lock with his.
“Open your mouth.” His thumb brushes my lower lip, opening my mouth as he continues, “Show me your tongue.”
I do as he says, sticking my tongue out a little before he slides his fingers out of my pussy and pushes them into my mouth—deep, hitting the back of my throat so I gag before instinctively sucking them clean.
We stare at each other, locked in the moment. Me trembling, ruined, barely holding myself together, him with eyes so black and empty it almost hurts to look at.
