To consume.
‘I can’t wait to get my mouth on your cunt.’
I’m not sure if it’s the word—his base language—or the anticipation of the experience that makes me cry out. But whatever it is, he seems to anticipate it as he moves his thigh, his fingers making quick work of the zipper of my jeans. Without another word, Greg slips his hand flat against my stomach, sliding it inside my sodden knickers. His fingers curl, and for the world, it feels like he’s holding my pussy as if it belongs to him.
‘You’re so wet,’ he groans. ‘And it’s so fucking hot.’ I can feel my flesh pulsing against his fingers.Can he tell? Can he feel it?‘This is a new kitchen, Isobel.’Well, that was a little jarring. Where is he going with this?‘And you’re the first meal I’m gonnae eat in here.’
Oh. My.
I make a whole range of noises as he pulls his hand from my jeans to yank them down my legs. One minute, I have my hand on the caramel skin of his back for balance, and the next, they’re gripping the countertop for the same effect. Okay, not quite the same. Not as he drops to his knees. Not as I buck at the graze of his teeth. Not as I cry out in pleasure as the hard thrust of his fingers keep me in place.
Electricity swells beneath my skin; I want to touch him, kiss him, taste my need from his lips, but most of all, I want to come. And I can feel it—feel it growing and expanding as he begins flicking my clit with the point of his tongue, over and over again.Such torture. Such brilliantly exquisite torture.A kiss, then another as he works his way down my slit. When he reaches my opening, his dark gaze slides up my body, owning every solitary piece of me. With a sinful smile, he parts my slick lips, stroking his tongue against my swollen flesh. A swipe of tongue. Another kiss. His fingers sliding upwards to bare my clit. Bare it. Kiss it. Take it between his lips.
‘Greg! Oh, God! I-I-’
I’ve never come like this. In fact, I rarely come at all. Not when others are involved. Up until this point, orgasm has been a party for one.
‘Your honey is so sweet on my tongue. Give it to me.’
‘I can’t . . . I just can’t!’ My fingers grasp the counter so tightly, I don’t think I can feel them anymore.
‘Give in, darlin’. Give up.’ His accent is heavier now, his voice rendering the word something like a growl as his indecent gaze comes up from between my legs.
I begin to thrust myself against his face—against his tongue. The bristles on his chin abrade my sensitive skin as my chants take on another tone, a different verse.
‘Yes, God, yes! Please, please, please!’
‘That’s it, darlin’,’ he murmurs, his breath a hot wisp against my skin. ‘Take what you need.’
But it’s too much.
He grunts a thoroughly masculine sound as I try to push away his head. It’s too much to bear—too many sensations—and I’m so wired I feel like I could crawl out of my skin. Not that he pays me any heed as his eyes drop closed, his tongue working me like it’s his job.And maybe it is.But, Jesus Christ, after this, I might well put myself at the top of his customer list.
‘You’re so fucking delicious.’ He growls against my flesh as he hooks his hand under one knee, pulling me closer as though he can’t get enough. His tongue strokes, opening me, his whole mouth licking, sucking, devouring.
‘Greg, I can’t. I can’t!’
‘Shush, now. It’s time to pay up.’
As though I needed his permission, the swelling sensation bursts—bursts with bliss. Every inch of my body tingles with heat and pleasure and bliss. So much bliss.
I come so hard, behind my closed eyes, I’m sure I see stars born.
Crumpled against the countertop, I feel my heart beat as though it’d break free, given the chance. And all that I can think isI’d so go into debt for regular access to this.
