My resolve shatters. I give in and nod.
His eyes narrow, and in a flash, he’s on me, lifting me effortlessly and laying me down on the couch. He follows me down, his body covering mine and his mouth finds mine again, and this time, the kiss is slower, deeper.
I want to press him for truths and answers. I want to demand to know where he’s been, what he’s done. But when his hand comes under my dress and cups my pussy, even over the thin fabric of my underwear, I nearly see stars.
Our first couple times were so different, both of us still so nervous, clumsy. This is something else entirely. He skipped ahead, learned new tricks while I was stuck in the same place. The thought pisses me off:did he learn this with someone else? With that girl I saw in the store window?
His hand moves with a precision that steals my breath, his finger dipping beneath the elastic to slide through my wetness. “Do you want me to stop?” he says again, and once more I shake my head no, but the word that comes out is a desperate, ragged, “Scotch!”
He grabs the bottle, takes a long swallow, his throat working as he drinks, but he doesn’t swallow it all. He sets the bottle aside and leans over me. He brings one hand up, his thumb gently but firmly parting my lips. With his mouth still full of the warm whiskey, he leans in close, and I watch, mesmerized, as he lets the smoky liquid drip from his lips into mine. It’s messy and so much hotter than anything I’ve ever done.
Then he’s back, kissing me again, his tongue chasing the hint of the whiskey in my mouth. I know he doesn’t owe me anything.We weren’t even that serious, right?That’s what I tell myself, anyway. I try to form a question, but all that comes out is a breathless, “How do you… know how to do this?”
He pulls back to look at me. “You mean this?” he whispers, his thumb finding my clit and starting to rub in slow circles. My hips buck off the couch and he sees it. He knows exactly what he’s doing to me. “Why do you ask, Sisk?” he teases. “Are you jealous? Does the thought of me touching someone else like this make you mad?”
Something in me snaps and I lose it. When he comes close to kiss me, I bite his lip, so hard I taste blood.
He laughs amused. He just pulls back, brings his thumb to his mouth to feel the small cut I’ve made, and then, his eyes lock on mine and he licks the blood away before sucking his finger clean. My pussy clenches at the sight, a fresh, vicious wave of arousal washing over me.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he says, a chuckle rumbling in his chest. He pushes his thumb, still wet with my own arousal, into my mouth, pressing down on my tongue. “What about you?” heasks, his voice a rough caress. “Have you been a good rabbit or a bad one?”
I suck his thumb, my tongue swirling around it, and look at him.
“Have you let anyone else touch you?” he asks again, his voice hardens.
I shake my head, my lips still wrapped around his thumb.
“Fuck you?”
I shake no again.
“Good rabbits get rewarded, you know?” He lowers himself and hooks his fingers into the sides of my underwear, pulling them down so slowly it’s a form of exquisite torture. He opens my legs even slower, his hands warm and firm on my thighs. And then he just looks. He stares for what feels like an eternity, his gaze so intense it’s like a physical touch.
“All this time…” he says. “The thought of doing this drove me mad, you know.”
“It did?” I ask.
“So fucking much.”
Then his mouth is on me. He tests, tries… a little too light, a little too hesitant. It tells me everything. All that confidence, all that teasing… this is new to him too. He’s just as lost in this as I am.
I guide him, my hand tangling in his hair. “Higher,” I breathe.
He moves up, still trying, his tongue exploring. “Harder,” I gasp, and his tongue deepens its pressure, finding the spot that makes my whole body light up. I shake so hard, a loud cry tearing from my lips, that he has to hold my legs down.
“Like this?” he asks, his voice muffled against me. He does it again, a slow precise stroke, and for the first time, I realize all the times I touched myself and explored my own body were nothing in comparison.
It takes only a couple of minutes of him licking my clit for me to come, and I’m pretty sure I let out an “I love you” and “I hate you” in the same desperate, broken moan.
He doesn’t stop, he goes completely still, his tongue pressed flat against me as my body convulses. I feel a deep, shuddering groan vibrate against my most sensitive skin, a sound of pure, primal satisfaction. He keeps his mouth on me, breathing hard, face buried in my pussy, savoring his accomplishment.
When I stop shaking, he sits back, pulling me onto his lap.
I can feel him hard against my thigh, but when I move to touch him there, I notice him flinch.
“Do you want me to stop?” I ask this time confused.
He grins. “Scotch?” He lifts an eyebrow. I pick up the bottle and pass it to him. He takes a long sip. “Couldn’t hold it,” he says finally, his voice gravelly.
