Placing one hand on my inner thigh, he spreads my legs wider.
‘You’re so wet, and I haven’t even touched you.’
I don’t have any reply beyond a soft sigh as his breath blows between my legs. I feed my tethered hands under my head now, raising my vantage point to watch his wicked gaze, to watch as he bows his sandy head.
My body tingles with anticipation of his touch which comes unexpectedly at the soft inside of my thigh.But he did say he’d bite me there next. What he didn’t say was how hard.
‘Oh! Ow.. .’ My cry draws off as his teeth stop pressing quite so hard, releasing the flesh to a dark and delicious kind of sting. ‘Oh, fuck.’ I attempt to squirm away from him as he lowers his head again, this time placing his tongue against the bite mark. The position oddly soothes, more so as he begins alternating sweet kisses and short licks until my body relaxes, no longer tense against the bed... when he spreads me wider still and bites my other thigh.
This time, I can feel the line of his teeth against my skin, the sensation resonating at the apex of my legs where my pussy begins to throb with need. Each bite deepens the sensation, each kiss and lick—each brush of his stubbled cheek—pushing me closer to a feeling of delirium—each set of indentations drawing closer to where I need him the most.
When it’s clear there’s no place else to go, my whole body quivers in anticipation. Quivers in need and in fear. I want the wet slide of his tongue and the threat of his teeth, but is that what he has planned? My mind is awash with questions, each one turning anticipation into a pleasurable yet angsty stew.
Will he bite me there?
Will I survive it?
Will it hurt as I come between his teeth?
What about when he fucks me?
‘Please, I want this,’ I pant hoarsely, not sure exactly what experience it is I think I’m asking for. ‘I just want it,’ I plead. ‘Please.’
‘Look at you,’ Keir growls, his desire coupled with the deep timbre of his voice tightening my insides. ‘Just fucking look at you,’ he says again, right before he pushes his mouth into my very centre.
With one swipe of his tongue, I’m crying out. His hands push my thighs impossibly wide, his thumbs pressuring the crisscross of bites until they throb. It’s the best kind of torture. A wicked kind of divine. My insides pulse and heat, the bites throbbing alongside the feeling and twisting my orgasm into something else. Something hot and frantic. Something wet and wild.
He said he’d make me scream last time, and I thought I did, but that experience has nothing on this. Not as he spears me with his fingers, not as his mouth envelops my clit. I am dead. Officially spent. And if I had a voice, I might tell him so as he climbs my body, pressing kisses against my skin, before rolling onto his back and taking me with him.
‘I can’t,’ I moan, even as I push against him. ‘Please.’
‘Of course, you can. You’re the Amazing Paisley. You can do anything.’
Propped against the mountain of pillows, he pulls me over to where he holds himself in his hand. It seems to take forever to feel him ease into me—too long. I want to slam myself down, fill myself with him, but at the first push, he grabs my hips to better position me.
‘Look,’ he whispers, his fingers tightening on my hips. ‘Look at how you take me so beautifully.’
I glance down at where we join. At where my skin parts, at where my wetness spreads around him. At where I envelop him.
‘Look at my marks,’ he whispers, rubbing his thumb over the indents in my skin. My insides begin to pulse again, the sound of his deep groan almost hypnotic. ‘You’re gonna make me come so hard.’ The pulse in his throat throbs deeply as he tips back his head.
‘Yes. I want that.’ I want all of that—all of him inside me, hard and wild. And I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything as bad. ‘Please, let me,’ I whine, trying to lower myself, trying to take a little more of him inside.
‘All in good time,’ Keir whispers, holding me wide and pushing up a little farther into me. And that’s how it goes with each slide. Glacial. Slow. Excruciating. Until he’s seated deep inside me. ‘Put your hands behind your head.’
I do so, flushed and shaking, every inch of my body screaming with the need of this release. But he barely moves, just whispering to me—words of how good I am. How he can feel every inch of me. How he can’t wait to see his cum dripping from me.
My thighs sting from the strain of keeping upright and from the rigidity in his pose. My arms ache as sweat trickles down my spine and between my breasts. But it all changes as Keir feeds his hand up my back to grab my shoulders, pulling me farther onto him.
I slide my legs wider than I ever thought possible, almost as though my body would envelop the whole of his. I’m hungered, so wet and filled, but it’s still not enough. Each time he pushes up into me, my clit brushes his skin, and it’s torturous. His movements make me beg and chant for release.
Please. Please. Please. Let me come.
The bite marks on my legs ache from the abrasion of the coarse hairs on his legs and the brush of his skin—the friction he sits higher, starting to buck and fuck up into me. His hands pull on the tie tethering my wrists, bowing my back and offering my breasts to his mouth.
My whole body jerks as his lips find my nipple. He hisses out a half curse as I pulse deeply around him. Pinned, he works me with his hips, spearing me again and again until I’m bucking and thrashing and losing my goddamned mind.
‘Yes!’ he hisses out. ‘I can feel you coming—oh, fuck! That’s... that’s. . .’
