"There it is." I could hear the smile in it. "That's what I wanted.”
He spread me open with both hands and put his mouth on me from behind.
The sound I made was not dignified. I didn't care. My fists tightened in the blanket and my knees tried to buckle and he held me up with one forearm braced across my hips, keeping me exactly where he wanted me, exactly where I couldn't move.
"Sawyer—" His name came out broken.
He didn't answer. Just worked me with his tongue, slow and focused, tasting every part of me he could reach from this angle, which was—God—which was a lot. My whole body was shaking. My arms were barely holding me up.
"Please—" I didn't know what I was asking for. More. Everything. "Please, I need?—"
He pulled back just enough. "Need what."
"Inside me?—"
"Not yet." His thumb moved, slow circle, and I gasped. "You said please. Keep doing that."
"Please," I said immediately. No pride left. None. "Please, Sawyer, please?—"
"Good girl." His mouth came back and this time he added his fingers, two of them pushing inside me slow while his tonguekept moving, and I cried out into the blanket and pushed back against his hand and he let me, held the angle and let me work myself on his fingers while his mouth did what it wanted.
Then his thumb moved lower.
I went completely still.
"Okay?" he said against me. Low. Careful underneath the control.
"Yes." It came out fast. Certain. "Yes."
"Tell me if you want me to stop."
"I won't."
"Daniela."
"I won't want you to stop," I said. "I trust you. Keep going."
A beat of silence. His mouth pressed to the base of my spine.
"Good girl," he said, and his thumb pressed slow and easy and I dropped my forehead to the mattress and breathed through it, the stretch of it, the specific unfamiliar pressure that made my whole body clench around his fingers still moving inside me.
"Oh God," I managed.
"Still okay?"
"Don't stop." My voice came out wrecked. "Don't you dare stop."
He didn't stop.
He worked me slow and thorough, fingers curling forward while his thumb pressed careful circles and his mouth moved back to my clit and I stopped being able to track any individual sensation because it was all of them at once, everywhere, too much and not enough and I was shaking so hard the mattress was moving with me.
"Sawyer—" Desperate now. "Sawyer I'm going to—I need?—"
"I know." His fingers moved faster. "Come on. Let me feel it."
I came so hard I couldn't make sound for a second—just locked up completely, everything clenching, and then it crashedthrough me in waves and his name tore out of my throat and his hand worked me through every shuddering second until I was lying flat against the mattress unable to move anything.
He stood up behind me.
