And then, his tongue is on me, and I can’t think about anything else. My fingers slip into his hair as he laps at me with thick wide strokes. His saliva mixes with my wetness. He doesn’t hold back.
I’ve experienced oral sex, but I’ve never felt like I was being devoured. Being inhaled.
So desired that my partner can’t get close enough no matter what he does.
It’s messy and wet and sounds filthy.
“Knox,” I cry, unable to keep the word in.
He sucks on my clit, then places his teeth around it. There’s a knife-edge moment where I wonder whether he truly intends to hurt me, which only serves to make everything more thrilling.
I arch against him, grinding on his face, tugging on his hair. His fingertips dig into the softness of my thighs and hips.
His long tongue dangerously strokes in and out of me. His thumb, soaked by now, rubs circles over my clit until I feel so tightly wound, I’m in desperate need of release.
But every time I get close, it’s as if Knox senses it and moves slightly. Each time, it builds a little higher, ebbs a little less.
“Oh, God.” The words are desperate as I grab a fistful of the sheets in one hand.
He lifts his head and looks at me. “Just think how good it’s gonna feel when you finally come.”
This time, he focuses on driving his tongue as far as he can inside me. It’s enough, and yet, not. I move my hips, trying to get the friction where I want and need it, but Knox grips my hips so firmly, I’ll have bruises tomorrow.
My next cry is a wordless sob of frustration and want. The orgasm hovers just out of reach.
And Knox returns to sucking and licking my clit until I can’t contain it any longer. The tension of my orgasm breaks in a rush that steals the air from my lungs.
“Oh, God,” I cry as I come hard. I lose touch with everything else happening around me as I collapse into the sensations Knox has created.
Wave after wave of pleasure so intense it’s hard to describe rattles through me, and when my head finally falls back against the pillow, I gasp for air. The room is quiet as I struggle to catch my breath, and Knox continues to lick me softly and tenderly. Basking in the ripples of aftershocks, I try to slow my racing heartbeat.
Knox finally rests his forehead on my thigh, his breathing slow and steady.
There’s a momentary flurry of embarrassment, that he’s this close to the most private parts of me, just lying there. But then, he kisses my thigh before leisurely climbing up my body to plant another kiss on my lips.
A chaste one, first, then deeper. There’s something so erotic about tasting myself on his lips. The scent of me lingers on his beard. I open my legs, raising my knees while my feet sit by his hips.
There has been no conversation about condoms, and I know I should ask as his cock strokes between my thighs.
But then, he’s gone.
“What—?” I’m confused. I was enjoying this. I thought he was too. He didn’t even jerk off on me this time.
He walks to the rail and pulls on clothes that might still be damp. I felt how hard he was, but I need to respect that the man knows his own mind. If he doesn’t want any relief of his own, that’s his prerogative. Yet, I hate that it makes me feel a little…undesirable.
When he’s dressed, he walks to the door, then glances back at me. His expression is hard to read, so I try not to. The last thing I need to see there is any kind of pity. “What happened in here stays in here, right?”
It’s over, and even though I knew the end was coming, my nod is morose. “Like Vegas.” I try to smile. To be indifferent, like I’m sure many of Knox’s lovers are.
His smile of sympathy suggests he sees my discomfort. “Just like Vegas.”
Maybe I’m seeing things or reading too much into this moment, but I feel the need to check on him.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
The question seems to catch him off guard. He pauses for a moment, as if thinking, then reaches for the door handle. “Yeah, sweetheart, I’m good.”
With that, he steps out into the hallway and pulls the door closed behind him. The apartment falls quiet again. He didn’t even look at the cameras to see if it was safe to leave.
