He notices me staring. “Promise me, Sophia.”
I lick my lips. “I promise.”
He kisses me like he’s starving, deep and filthy, tongue stroking while his free hand pushes my thighs apart. I’m already writhing, and when he breaks the kiss, I lift my shoulders tofollow him, only to crane my neck back when he sucks one nipple into his mouth, teeth grazing just enough to make me arch and moan.
Sliding a hand between my legs, a finger slips into me while his thumb circles my clit.
“Reth—” I gasp, hips rolling into his hand, and he keeps working me open, fingers curling, thumb stroking, mouth moving to my other breast, sucking and biting, driving me crazy.
“Keep your hands where I put them,” he warns, and I nod, gripping the pillow above my head.
Warm breath caresses my skin as he continues down, his hands sliding under my thighs. His thumbs press into the soft creases where thigh meets hip, firmly pushing my legs wider, spreading me completely open for him.
Heat detonates the second his tongue drags through my folds in one long, slow lick, and my core drops into a tight knot. The next lash of his tongue is as precise as it is fucking devastating, circling my clit before flattening to press and flick.
My back arches off the bed, and he groans against me, licking, sucking, fucking me with his tongue like he can’t get enough. Like he can feel how much my body needs it, lust seeping out of my pores straight into him.
“Fuck, you taste so good,” he growls between licks. “So fucking sweet. I could die here, Cherry-red.”
“You and me both,” I whimper, hips thrusting.
Two fingers curl perfectly inside me while his tongue flicks relentlessly. Lick, slide, flick.
My thighs start to shake, muscles tensing and releasing with each wave of pleasure. Each breath tears from my lungs, my ribs rising and falling violently as sounds I barely recognize spill past my lips. My fingernails dig into the pillow above my head, fighting the primal urge to grab fistfuls of his dark hair and grind myself against his hungry mouth.
“Your cunt’s squeezing my fingers,” he says, voice dark. “You’re about to come, aren’t you?”
“God, yes!”
He sucks my clit hard, and I shatter, crying out his name as white-hot pleasure crashes through me like lightning splitting me open. Sparks erupt behind my eyes, every muscle locked in the peak of it. He doesn’t stop, keeps licking me through it, drawing every last tremor out until I’m shaking and whimpering.
“Jesus. Fuck, Sophia.” The words tear out of him, broken and desperate, right against my soaked pussy. His hips jerk and his whole body locks up violently, the rhythm of his tongue faltering, then buries his face deeper with a groan…and comes. Untouched, uncontrolled, spilling thick ropes of cum against my inner legs, thrusting into nothing while his mouth stays glued to me.
And, by God, it launches me into a second, savage orgasm, that reduces me to a quivering mess of bones and cries and sensitive flesh.
He keeps licking me, through his own climax, through my second one, tongue sloppy and desperate, like he can’t stop tasting me even while he’s falling apart.
When it finally slows, he’s stays there between my legs. “Fuck,” he rasps, voice wrecked. “I couldn’t… I couldn’t stop it. You taste too fucking good.”
I look down at him still pressed against me, lips soft against my clit, breathing hard, his hair a mess, his shoulders still carrying the last tremors of it. His eyes are closed, his grip on my thighs loosened, but his hands are still there, still holding, still present, like he can’t quite make himself let go yet.
A feeling spreads beneath my ribs—something warm, vast, almost terrifying. I’ve been with men before. I know the difference between someone performing pleasure and someone genuinely lost in it. I know what it looks like when a man is simply enjoying himself versus when he’s completely undone.
But this…
This violent, careful, devastating man who has spent years learning to control every single response, to lock every reaction behind layers of iron discipline, lost control because of me. Because of the way I taste. Because somewhere between spreading me open and burying his tongue inside me, he crossed a line he didn’t see coming, and his body made a decision without asking permission first.
No hands. No friction. No stroking himself. Just the taste of me.
Euphoric doesn’t even come close to describing what I feel. It’s deeper than that. Darker. Greedier. And I immediately know it’s something I want to hold on to, something Ihaveto hold on to.
When he leans to the side and gently smears his cum across my skin, marking me with slow, deliberate strokes, my bones start to vibrate with it—this fierce, possessive heat that travels up the inside of my thighs and lodges itself in the center of my chest.
“You like that, don’t you?” Reth’s voice is spent and razor-sharp at the same time. “You like knowing you can wreck me.”
“I like knowing you’re mine.”
Fingers coated in his cum, he eases into me, slow, like he wants to watch my pussy take every inch, every drop.
