Would he move fast? Slow? Hard?
Just watching him, I think I can guess.
“Do you remember what you said to me after?” he asks.
Yes.
I shake my head, fingers moving with more urgency.
“No,” I squeak out.
“You said I could eat it whenever I want. Is that still true, baby?”
His gaze finds my face, eyes half hooded, and my hands still between my legs as I nod.
He stands abruptly, stuffing himself back in his pants, before stalking forward and kneeling in front of me.
“Good. ‘Cause I’ve missed you.”
There’s only a moment before his tongue is on me. He grips me behind the knees, dragging me to the edge of my chair and propping my legs up on his shoulders.
I don’t argue as he arranges me to his liking. Elliot’s tongue is nothing short of a gift to women. Men, too, if he ever thought to try it. If he wants me dangling from the ceiling, who am I to complain?
He plants a trail of fervent kisses along my thighs before pressing his lips to my clit. He kisses it slowly, groaning into my wet flesh, and my body heats, pulling from him.
“Oh, gods.” I moan, clawing at his shoulders. “Elliot…”
His tongue sweeps through me, teasing and prodding, and I am reduced to a mewing mess as he drinks from me. Left with nothing but his name on my lips as my body climbs toward its peak.
“Elliot!” I shout. “Fates! One!”
He abides by my command, and my power swells as he pours into me, rendering his energy mine. His fingers grip me tighter when it starts to burn, but he doesn’t slow.
Elliot is not a gentle lover. He gives you what you need, not what you ask for.
What I need tonight turns out to be a string of orgasms, each more frantic than the last, with my only reprieve being the few moments he pauses to praise me.
“Fuck, baby. Why do you taste so good? It doesn’t make any sense.”
He laps at me again, tonguing me slowly before returning to his savage dining.
I lose count after my eighth one, but Elliot shows no signs of stopping, and I resort to pleading for my freedom.
“Elliot,” I beg, breathless. “Please, no more.”
He slows, pressing a thumb to my sensitive skin and denying me any respite.
“What’s wrong, princess? You full?”
I shake my head.
No, I’m far from full. But he can’t go for much longer. Every stroke brings him closer to being drained where he kneels.
“You can’t—” I say.
An orgasm rolls through me as he circles my clit, and my words are cut off by my own desperate sounds.
“Oh gods, Elliot. Please…Ohhh, fuck.”
