His fingers slip out of me, and then I smell…me.Pungent, intense, inherently female—unmistakable."Open your mouth," he commands.
I do.God help me, I know what he's going to do and I'm going to let him, even though every part of my psyche rebels against it.
I feel his fingertip slide over my tongue, and the taste of my sex bursts like fireworks on my taste buds.It's not…god, I don't even know how I feel about tasting myself.Weirded out and uncomfortable, yet also…aroused?
I hear him sucking on his fingers, and I can picture him licking his fingers clean as if he'd been eating Cheetos.
"Tastes like fucking candy," he growls in my ear."Don't you think?"
"I…I don't know.I don't know."
"Was it gross?"
"No," I admit."Weird, maybe, but not gross."
His lips touch the shell of my ear, then my nape, then between my shoulder blades, and then the small of my back, and then he's quite literally kissing my ass, big hands framing my buttocks as his mouth touches here and there, making me shiver, making me gasp at the featherlight teasing trail of ghostly-soft kisses to the upper swell, the outer curve, the lower edge, and I can't help but pant and whimper and lift my hips and tighten my belly as anticipation roars through me.
He grips my hips and rolls me to my back, and my knees instinctively clench together when I feel the damp skid of his lips over my upper, inner left thigh, his beard scraping my pudendum.
"Oh god, oh god, Noah—I…shit, I—" everything comes screaming back, all the doubt, all the insecurity, all the fear, every mean, cruel, vile, destructive comment.
"I know," he murmurs."I know."
My leg crosses over the other in an attempt to hide myself, to lock away my sex before he can see it, smell it, touch it, taste it…and be disgusted.
He doesn't try to pry open my thighs.Instead, his nose slides along the outside of my thigh.I hear him inhale, scenting me."I love the smell of your desire, Morgan," he says, nuzzling as close to my pussy as he can get.
"Noah, I…I want to—I can't—"
"Do you want me to stop?"he asks.
"N-no."
"Sure?"
"Yes."
"Trust me?"
"Yes."
His mouth quests against mine."I wish you could see yourself right now, Morgan.So fucking sexy."
My heart spins in my chest like a gyroscope at his words—my heart hears him and believes him; my brain remains skeptical.
I expect him to kiss his way down my body, to coax my legs apart.I expect this, and brace for it.
That isn't what happens.
I feel his hands at my left ankle; I feel the cool silk as he knots another necktie around my ankle, and then on the right.Panic—and excitement—has me shaking all over like a dry leaf in an autumn wind.
"Noah?"I sound scared, even to myself.Beneath the fear is excitement and anticipation, but right now, the fear is on top and strongest.
"Relax.Trust me."
"Tr-trying."
Obviously, I can't see him, or anything, but I get the sense that he's kneeling at my feet; I'm still curled up in a tight ball, my lower half turned away while my upper half remains flat on the floor.Gently, slowly, Noah pulls one of my legs out straight; I have to fight myself tooth and claw to let him extend both legs, so I’m lying flat once more.
