One of her hands left his shoulder, stroked his jaw. “You are. You do.”
He turned his head and kissed her palm. Then he moved even lower, and the frisson of desire he felt did not come from the rub of his cock on the mattress but that she spread her legs to accommodate him.
Welcome, she said without words.
He had not done this in many years. But he remembered certain things. He must take his time. Gentleness could arouse more than fervor. At least, at the start.
Then he saw and smelled her cunt and forgot everything.
Susannah.
He made his tongue flat and wide and licked her from bottom to top, relishing her taste.
She inhaled sharply but did not say anything.
What a selfish animal he was. One whiff and he was slavering over her.
He began again. Gentle kisses. Discovering her. Caring for her. Pleasing her. He found her opening and kissed her there, his nose nestled into her folds, her maidenhair brushing the skin next to his nose. He put his tongue into her, penetrated her, tasted her.
Oh, my God.
“Oh,” she said.
He was right at the heart of her desire, and he wanted tofeast on her beauty, cover himself in her, bury his whole face in her.
But, more than that, he wanted to please her, not himself.
He brought his hand up from under her gorgeous, lush hips and replaced his tongue with his finger and set up a rhythm of fucking her as he moved his mouth to the top of her slit.
Her leg and his head cast a shadow in the moonlight, but his tongue knew its way to her clitoris as if he had been here many times before.
A delicate lick. She clenched, her cunt squeezed his finger, her thighs lifted up by a fraction of an inch.
An even lighter application of his tongue directly on the sensitive nub. And again. And again. She relaxed. She trusted him now, knew he would not be careless, would not hurt her.
He built his pressure and speed, both with his mouth and his finger.
“Oh, Henry,” she said. A whimper. “I never . . . I didn’t . . .”
He was surrounded by her. Her taste, her sounds, her smell, the hardening of her clitoris under his tongue.
“I don’t,” she gasped.
She clawed at his shoulders just as he had wished, but he barely took note of the scratch of her nails, so intent was he on making her come.
“I don’t know what to do,” she pleaded.
He could answer her. He could tell her there was nothing for her to do but to accept her pleasure, that was all he wanted her to do, just to take, even though she was not used to that, but, please take, take, take, Susannah.
But he could not answer her. His tongue was occupied.
“Oh, Henry. Henry. Henry.”
His name had never been said as she said it. He attacked her nub with his tongue, lashing at it furiously, wanting more and more for her.
“You please me, you please me, you please me, you please me!”
The lastmewas nearly a scream, and she clenched again and again and again, and his finger felt each pulse rippling through her.
