“Wait,” she cried.
“I don’t want to wait,” he murmured as his measured and methodical tongue licked every inch of her, as if it was conducting a symposium on the female anatomy. But he made a point of always stopping short of her clit, pulling back so that his lips hovered above it, and she could feel the steam from his breath as he whispered something she couldn’t make out.
Bastard.
She moaned. “You do know that given you’re not looking at me when you speak, that means you’re speaking to my vagina.”
“Don’t make me laugh, Ceci. This is serious business.”
He flicked her clit with his tongue and then began to suck on it.
Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners.
“Will you tell me if it speaks back to you?” she groaned.
“What if it speaks Gaelic?”
“What?” she sputtered, part laugh and part harried breath. “It can’t speak Gaelic. I don’t speak Gaelic and you don’t speak Gaelic.”
“Iss toosa an kroo-hih-or iss awl-ye a khuh-nick …”
Oh, fuck no.
She shut her eyes and every hiss, kick and cluck, every harsh and guttural consonant assaulted her clit, until all she could see was flashing light and her pussy was pounding and screaming for mercy.
“May ree-uv, an kroo-hih-or iss awl-ye a vee shay ina on-oor agus free-vleh-dih agam a khuh-hoo i mo law-ha.”
Her voice was so shaky and breathy, she wasn’t even sure she’d spoken. “You didn’t.”
“I did. Now be quiet.”
“But I’m going to—”
“You’re not.”
“How do you even know what I was going to say?”
“You’re not going to fall because I won’t let you. You do trust me, don’t you?”
Trust you?
The man just spoke Gaelic to my vagina.
“I—I—” she faltered as his tongue slid the length of her and then flicked her clit again. And again. And again. “Yes,” she shouted.Shit, she thought, biting down on her knuckles. “I do,” she murmured. “I do. I do. Oh God, oh Jesus …”
“No, Ceci, not the father or the son, just me—is that not enough for you?”
“Yes,” she groaned. “Enough. Enough. More than enough.”
“Then show me,” he murmured, his words and his breath sweeping over her clit and punctuated by his tongue. “I won’t stop until you do. You’ve seen me on the track. You know I’m the most patient driver out there. You know I can be relentless. When I want to be.”
“Do you? Want to be?”
“Relentless? Oh, yes,” he hummed, sucking on her clit. “Which means you’re going to have to tell me when to stop. Not with words but with your body. Can you do that for me?”
A million hummingbirds trapped beneath her skin, flying madly about and trying to escape, finally broke free. And every cell in her began to shake.
“Yes, yes, oh, God, yes, Sir Galahad, yes,” she screamed.
