“Taio—”
“Shh.” His breath ghosts across my clit, and I nearly buck off the mattress. “You’re so beautiful, Charlie. I can’t wait to taste you.”
Before I can argue or deflect or make some self-deprecating joke to cut the tension, or tease him to hurry up, his mouth is on me.
Oh.
Oh.
His tongue is soft, exploratory, the first brush more a question than a demand. I tense, because of course I do, and in response he hums, the vibration so light it makes my hips jerk in surprise. Embarrassment wars with pleasure, but the pleasure is winning, and he hasn’t even really started.
Taio takes his time. Every lick, every kiss, is deliberate, reverent. He’s not showing off or teasing me. It’s like he’stuning an instrument, learning what makes the strings inside me shiver. He laps at me in slow, shallow sweeps, then presses his mouth down, sealing me in darkness and heat. The sensation is nothing like I expected—maddening and tender and somehow more intimate than I ever imagined sex to be.
My hands fist the sheets, nails digging tight enough to leave crescent moons in the fabric. I can’t help it. My hips want to move but I’m paralyzed by how good it feels and how much I don’t want to mess this up, to let myself be bad at receiving pleasure in front of him. I should be making noise, saying his name, maybe arching my back like every woman does in every movie ever, but I’m caught somewhere between wanting to disappear and wanting to let him see every inch of me unravel.
He pauses, just for a second, and lifts his head. I risk opening my eyes.
“Still okay?” he asks, voice thick and impossibly gentle.
I nod, then realize maybe he can’t see me, so I make myself say, “Yes. Um, thank you.”
He grins, and there’s a little smear of my wetness glistening on the corner of his mouth. The sight of my arousal on his lips should make me want to die, but it doesn’t—it makes my clit throb harder. He looks so satisfied, so proud, like he’s just tasted paradise. Then he dives back between my thighs, his tongue delving deeper this time, his strong hands spreading me open so he can taste every slick fold. I feel the hot, firm pressure of his tongue circling my entrance before pushing inside me, fucking me with slow, deliberate strokes that make my inner walls clench desperately around nothing, silently begging to be filled.
I let out a sound, a weird half sob, half plea, and Taio groans in response, the vibration sending another bolt of sensation through me. “Oh, good girl, you’re already singing for me.”
He’s paying attention, adjusting his rhythm, finding the edge where the pleasure turns sharp. He keeps me right there,hovering, holding me open and wet and desperate, until I’m not thinking about anything except the hot, slick way his mouth moves and the way his hand fits against my thigh, grounding me so I don’t float away.
I dig my fingers into the sheets. I want to say his name, but I can’t remember how talking works. The world is a tunnel and the only thing at the other end is Taio, and Taio’s mouth, and Taio’s hands bracketing my hips like handles on a carnival ride.
Somewhere between one heartbeat and the next, his rhythm changes. He finds a pattern—a pulse and flick that feels mathematical at first, but then he throws in a syncopation just to keep me off-balance. There’s a pressure building inside me, every muscle banding tighter, a high-pitched note winding in my chest.
All I can do is gasp, fists knotted in the blanket, thighs trembling around his shoulders.
“Taio—” I try, but it comes out a whimper.
It’s ridiculous—he’s barely even started and already I’m right there, teetering on the edge like a cartoon character about to look down and realize there’s nothing but air. I bite my lip, afraid of the noises clawing up my throat, but he just keeps going, relentless, gentle, the tip of his tongue circling my clit like he’s drawing a map of my undoing. The tension builds and builds, everywhere at once: behind my knees, up my neck, in the soles of my feet. I’m going to come, I think. I’m really going to?—
And then he stops.
I make an inhuman sound. Not broken, exactly, but not whole, either. I open my eyes just in time to see him wipe his mouth with the back of his hand, a wicked gleam in his gaze.
“Not yet,” he says, voice rough with authority and amusement.
I want to argue, but I can barely form words. Instead, I pout, and he laughs—a low, satisfied rumble that pulses into my bones.
He flips me over like it’s nothing, rolling me onto my stomach with hands both gentle and firm. I gasp, the shock of movement making me hyperaware of every inch of my body. All the places still tingling, all the places suddenly exposed. The silk teddy is bunched up around my ribs, my ass in the air, the backs of my thighs trembling.
“Keep your legs together,” he instructs, and I do, feeling awkward and animalistic and so, so open.
He kneels behind me, large hands sliding up the insides of my legs. His thumbs spread me apart, exposing everything, and I almost choke on my own nerves. Then his mouth is between my cheeks, tongue darting between the tight lines of my body, and I lose whatever composure I had left.
He licks me from behind, slow and deliberate, sometimes flattening his tongue and sometimes flicking, sometimes just breathing me in. He eats my pussy like it’s the only thing he’ll ever taste again, and the new angle makes everything sharper, more desperate. My hands claw the sheets, my forehead pressed into the mattress, and I don’t even bother to muffle the noises now. I’m crying his name, begging, and it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters except the relentless, exquisite sensation of being devoured.
He slides a finger into me while he works my clit with his tongue, and I come apart, body going rigid and then melting, a hot flood of pleasure crashing through me so hard it makes my vision blur. I convulse, sob, and Taio keeps going, licking me through it, holding my hips so I can’t squirm away from the overwhelming feeling.
I come so hard, I nearly collapse to the side, but Taio holds me in place, refusing to show mercy. He slides two fingers ineasily, my arousal and my release now mixed into the most inviting potion, and now his fingers aren’t enough. I want his pants off too. I want to get closer.
But another orgasm rips through me, jostling my brain. This time I scream. I thrash. Then I collapse onto the mattress, boneless and spent.
