This scenario has played in my fantasies more times than can be healthy.
“It’s not that, Leo.” My voice is barely above a whisper.
What am I even causing a fuss about? I’m not better than this. I’m not somehow morally above the things Leo is doing.
If this is my punishment for not showing up to yesterday’s date, then I’m not even remotely upset about my decision, or lack thereof.
“Tell me to stop then.”
I bite the inside of my cheek. Those words will never come out. He gave me a couple days to work through my thoughts, and it’s far more than I thought he would.
I want this. I want him.
I need to get to know the real him better. This is a start, if anything.
He kisses the tattoo near my hip, and I take a deep breath. The sound Leo makes when I relax my legs and let him spread me wide open for him is nothing short of heavenly. The first touch of his tongue against my swollen clit? I think I see God.
My hips buck off the bed, and I slam my hand over my mouth to keep from making a sound. He snatches it away, and I gawk down at him. Joyce is in the next fucking room. I’m not about to subject her to this.
“Fuck, you taste better from the source.”
It’s a miracle I don’t make a sound when his tongue comes back down, swirling around my clit like he already knows what I prefer. His hair, on the other hand, pays the price for my silence.
I fist the soft strands like I’ve always wanted to do, but I can’t enjoy it because he doesn’t give me a moment of reprieve. Hefeasts. I tug on his hair, run my hands through it, grip it, use it as leverage and a way to grasp onto the last vestiges of my sanity.
“Say my name again. I love the way your voice shakes when you do.” With that, he slides a finger in, and I’m at his will.
His name comes out on a broken moan, and I clamp my teeth together to keep from making another sound. The pleasure is blinding, and he’s barely done anything.
“What will you sound like when I fingerfuck you while you’re awake?”
One single finger seems to be all it takes to have me turning my head and shoving my face into the pillow.
Deep in the recesses of my mind, I flag his choice of wording, but I’m too hopelessly gone to care.
My core clenches around him, and for a moment, I’m scared that the pain will start, and I’ll have to tell him to stop before my body reduces me to tears from something that’s meant tofeel good. But the ache never comes, and I let myself enjoy the feeling before my illness decides my time of fun is up.
The moment he pulls his finger out and wraps his lips around my sensitive flesh, I know, deep in my soul, that it’s not going to be long until I’ll be fighting every god known to man to keep myself from screaming.
A fact confirmed when he easily slips another finger in and starts pumping. My nails find purchase with his skin, and I’m clawing, thrashing, quietly begging with ragged breaths.
It’s Leo.
We haven’t even kissed yet, and Leo is already eating me out and fingerfucking me after breaking into my bedroom while I was asleep.
Jesus fucking Christ, I don’t think my fantasies were ever this crazy.
It’s something that would happen in my books. I’vewrittenabout scenes like this before, without ever having experienced it. Frankly, I thought I’d die before ever getting the chance.
I’m not sure which part is headier. The sinful things he’s doing with his mouth and fingers, or that I woke up to it.
Leo flicks his tongue over my clit, increasing the speed of his thrusting. There’s no mistaking the wet sounds that follow.
I whisper his name again. Or maybe I moan it out. All I’m sure of is that I’m gripping his head, and the darkness is becoming blindingly light. None of the thoughts pouring through my mind are coherent.
They’re just a clash of colors and muted sounds that grow deafening as the finish line approaches. There’s no use trying to keep silent. I’m a flurry of grunts and restrained moans, cursing and praying to be saved and forever tortured with this pleasure.
“That’s my girl,” he murmurs against my aching flesh before sucking harder, becoming more relentless with his fingers.
