“Ready for me,” he murmurs, breath hot against the inside of my thigh.
I am already shaking. Already dripping. My body aching, swollen, desperate. I nod, useless for words, but he waits, mouth hovering just above me, fingers tracing slow, maddening circles over my folds.
“Say it,” he says, eyes locked on mine.
I swallow, grip the edge of the island. “Yes,” I pant, legs spreading wider. “Fuck yes.”
And then his mouth is on me.
His tongue moves slow at first, teasing, flicking over my clit until I’m gasping, then presses harder, relentless, precise. My head falls back, a broken sound tearing out of me as his fingers slide inside, curling just right.
“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck. That feels amazing. Don’t stop—”
My hips buck against his face, desperate, needy. He groans against me, the vibration making my toes curl. His fingers thrust deeper, hitting something that makes my vision blur, his tongue never letting up.
“Harder,” I gasp, body trembling.
He doesn’t hesitate.
His fingers drive harder, faster. His tongue flattens against my clit, pressure bordering on too much and somehow still not enough. The kitchen spins. Light smears. My hand fists in his hair, holding him there as my thighs clamp around his head, my hips rocking helplessly.
“Don’t stop—just like that—”
My body coils tight, too tight, everything narrowing down to sensation.
“Fuck, come for me, Christa,” he growls, lips brushing my clit, fingers pushing me over the edge.
I break.
My back arches off the island, a cry ripped out of me as my pussy clenches around his fingers, wave after wave crashing through me. He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t ease up. His mouth works me through it, fingers drawing out every last tremor until my legs shake and I can’t breathe properly.
When it finally ebbs, I collapse back against the kitchen island, boneless, breathless.
He lifts his head, lips slick, eyes dark and satisfied. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, then presses a gentle kiss to the inside of my thigh, grounding in its tenderness.
Then he gathers me up, lifting me easily, my body still humming as he holds me against him.
He presses a kiss to my forehead, his heart hammering under my hand, his breath warm and steady.
And, for the first time all night, my body finally quiets.
28
Dick Unmoved
Geoff
Icarry Christa tomy bedroom like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
She’s warm and pliant in my arms, all soft weight and sleepy trust, one arm looped loosely around my neck. The flat is quiet again, the kitchen romp already feeling like it happened to someone else.
I lower her onto the bed and she turns instinctively, curling into me, like she’s done it before. Like she knows where she belongs. Her head tucks under my chin. My arm comes around her without thinking.
We don’t talk.
The room settles. The kind of silence that isn’t awkward. Just full.
I stare at the ceiling, heart still thudding a bit too hard, body humming. Seeing her come like that had done something to me. Not downstairs. No miracles there. But everywhere else? My blood had absolutely lost its mind. Heat. Possession. Want so sharp it still buzzes under my skin.
