His fingers traced lightly over my inner thighs, parting them wider, the touch feather-soft at first, then firmer, spreading me open. I whimpered, the anticipation building, my core clenching at nothing.
He dipped his head, pressing open-mouthed kisses to my stomach, my hips, the sensitive skin just above where I ached most, his stubble scraping deliciously.
“I haven’t stopped tasting you since Saturday,” he rasped. “That bathroom—Fuck, I’ve come five times just replaying how you flooded my tongue, how you drenched my fingers, how fucking sweet you were. Best thing I’ve ever had in my mouth. I’m getting it again, baby. Tell me you want my face buried in this pussy as bad as I do. Say it.”
His words made me blush, heat flooding my face and core, but they also made me bolder, the praise igniting something confident inside me.
I’d dreamed of this too…of pleasing him, of making him lose control the way he did to me, of tasting him and watching him unravel. “Yes,” I said, huskily, my voice thick with want. “But I want to taste you, too.”
His eyes widened, a pleased grin spreading across his face, slow and predatory. “Yeah? You want my cock in that pretty mouth?”
“Please,” I begged.
He shifted, undoing his jeans with quick, eager movements, shoving them down along with his briefs, the fabric pooling at his knees before he kicked them off.
His erection sprang free, huge and thick, the tip glistening with pre-cum, the small silver piercing at the head catching the dim light, a glint of metal that made my pulse race.
I stared, my mouth watering, my obsession flaring at the sight of him—bigger than I’d imagined in my dreams, veined and hard, curving slightly upward, the piercing a promise of something new, something intense.
“Yes,” I breathed, the word slipping out before I could stop it, raw and desperate. “Yes. I need it.”
A rough groan tore from his throat, the sound vibrating against my skin like it came from somewhere deep and uncontrollable. “Fuck, baby, that’s it. Show me how bad you need it.”
I leaned forward, my tongue darting out to lick the tip, tasting the salty precum beading there. It was addictive—musky, slightly bitter, but uniquely him, a flavor that sank into me like a drug, flooding every sense, making my head spin and my core clench. I wanted to drown in it, to bottle it, to live with it on my tongue for the rest of my life.
I whimpered, the sound surprising even me, shameless and desperate, and took him deeper into my mouth, my lips stretching around his girth, the piercing cool against my tongue.
He was too big.
I couldn’t take all of him…my jaw already burned from the stretch. But I sank down as far as I could, lips sealed tight, tongue swirling the piercing in slow circles.
My hand twisted at the base, slick with spit and precum, matching the rhythm of my mouth. It was my first time, but I was desperate to get it right, to feel him lose control because of me.
A thrill shot through me as I watched his face contort in pleasure, his head falling back, a low moan escaping his lips, his tattoos shifting with the strain in his neck.
“Ophelia—Shit,” he hissed, his hand tangling in my hair, not pushing, just holding, grounding himself as his hips twitched. “Your mouth’s fucking unreal. Hot, wet, fucking perfect. My good girl, sucking me so good. Look at those pretty lips wrapped around my cock, begging for more.”
His praise spurred me on, and I bobbed my head, hollowing my cheeks, swirling my tongue around the piercing, feeling it bump against the roof of my mouth, the metal warming quickly.
I experimented, flicking my tongue against it, tracing the slit, earning a sharp gasp from him, his thighs tensing under my free hand. He groaned louder, hips bucking slightly, his free hand fisting the sheets until his knuckles whitened. “That’s it, baby. Take what you can. You’re doing so well—making me feel so good. Fuck, your tongue—Keep doing that. Suck harder, yes, just like that.”
I hummed in happiness around him, the vibration making him curse under his breath, a string of filth spilling out. “Fuck, yes, baby. It’s so good.” His thighs tensed further, the muscles in his abs clenching, the tattoos rippling with every breath.
Precum spilled in a steady stream, coating my tongue in a salty rush. I chased every drop, swirling, sucking, greedy for more, the flavor exploding across my senses. It was better thanany dream, and the fact that I was the one drawing it out of him, that I held this power over the man I’d worshiped from the shadows, made my head spin. I’d replayed this moment a thousand times in the dark, but it was nothing compared to the way his taste flooded my mouth, to the way it made me feel invincible.
My hand twisted faster at the base, slick with spit and him, while my lips sealed around the head, sucking hard, then easing into soft, teasing flicks across the slit. My other hand traced the ink on his abdomen, fingers mapping every line and shadow, then dipped lower to cradle his balls, rolling them gently, feeling them tighten under my touch. He shuddered, a broken string of praise tumbling out, voice cracking with every breath.
“You’re a fucking miracle, baby. Look at you, swallowing me down, pulling every drop out of me. My perfect girl, worshipping this cock like it’s yours. It is yours, isn’t it? You fucking love it.”
His voice was strained, his abs clenching harder, the tattoos rippling like waves.
I whimpered in agreement, the sound muffled around him. I did love it. I wanted to worship it, to drain every last pulse from him and keep it inside me. I wanted him to spill down my throat, hot and thick, and I’d swallow it all happily, letting it settle deep in my stomach like a secret I’d carry forever.
I wanted him to feed it to me every day, to mark me from the inside out, to let me taste his release on my tongue at breakfast, lunch, and in the dark hours when the world was quiet and it was just us.
“Fuck,” he growled, yanking out of my mouth with a slick, filthypop. A thin strand of spit clung between us for a heartbeat before snapping. He clamped two fingers around the base of his cock, knuckles white, chest heaving as he dragged in ragged breaths.
“I’m not coming until I’m inside you, Ophelia. That’s nonnegotiable.”
