She blinks up at me, embarrassment flickering in her eyes. “Oh. I…”
I capture her mouth in a hot, possessive kiss, and she relaxes under me. When I pull away, I tell her, “I want to see what feels good for you. How you like to be touched. Stroke that pussy for me, sweetheart, and help me learn your body.” I move one of my hands to her breast and give it languid strokes with my fingers, not touching the nipple at first.
After a minute or so of this, she’s writhing under my palm, no longer self-conscious. I can feel her hand rubbing against my pelvis as she touches her cunt. I roll onto my side so I can watch.
The burnished-red trim on her bared mound is clipped neat, and her lower lips are dripping wet as her fingers slick along her slit. She rubs her clit, her mouth open, eyes closed. I can smell the musk of her arousal, hear the slipperiness of her juices as she strokes herself. My girl is good and worked up, and I feel my balls tighten with the urge to spill my seed.
Her limbs start to clench. I can see she’s getting close. While it’s so fucking tempting to let her finish herself off, I stop her by grabbing her hand and sucking her fingers into my mouth. Her juices fill my senses, the delicate earthiness I’ve been craving for so many years. I can’t help myself—I move between her thighs, resting on my knees, and drop my face down to her pussy. Breathe her in, swipe my tongue along the soaking lips.
She bucks against my mouth, and I pin her pelvis down with one hand, spreading her legs wide with the other so I can nestle better in between her legs. “Don’t move,” I order her.
She stops instantly. I can see her body giving off little shivers, but she doesn’t disobey me. I think my cock would shoot off if she touched it, but I don’t want to come. I want this to be about her.
I return my attention to taking in every sensory detail I can about her pussy. The light pink flush of her nether lips. The rich tang of her liquid, the wetness, how I can see her body clenching and shuddering in anticipation.
Hands clamped on her thighs to keep them apart, I dart my tongue out and nudge it along her clit. She stiffens, and I feel her muscles bunch under my firm grip. Her skin is creamy soft; I let my fingers stroke the flesh. Meanwhile I dive into her cunt and feast on her, her come covering my face, her scent enveloping me. Need is spiraling in my gut, and I’m going to lose my grip soon if she doesn’t orgasm. I slip two fingers into her, feel her tightness clench around me, and groan hard. Fuck, she’s gushing all over my hand.
I want to plunge inside her so badly it’s making me insane. I can barely think, barely breathe, barely notice anything beyond her beautiful apex.
I curl my fingers to stroke her G spot, and her breathing becomes harsh, panting. I lavish her slit with my tongue, lick everywhere, slide down to the thin stretch of skin right above her puckered asshole, then move back up to her lower lips and nibble, suck, press the flesh. “Come for me,” I growl. “Come on my mouth, kitten. I want to taste it.”
Her whole body clenches, her pussy so tight it traps my fingers, and she says, “Oh Cole, yes, yes, I’m…” She exhales hard and cries out, and I suck her button clit as she comes all over my face.
I ride the wave with her, her arousal so potent it’s almost my own. As she descends, I press an open-mouthed kiss to her inner thighs, then one to her soaking pussy, and move up to lie beside her, taking my undershirt and balling it up as a pillow for me. My cock aches for me to take it out and fist it, to shoot this load dying to get out, but I’ve decided I’m not doing that, not yet. This night had to be about her, and if I’m honest, the torture of waiting to come inside her is fucking heady.
Lauren snuggles into my embrace and rests her head on my arm. Her limbs are molten, her body curving against mine, and I wrap her against me and kiss her forehead. The sleepy sigh she gives me in response makes my heart hurt. This is what I want even more than fucking her senseless. I want to fall asleep every night with her in my arms. How can I settle for anything less?
“That felt good,” she murmurs in a thick tone. “But…we didn’t…” Her hand starts to drift down my bare chest toward my pants, and I stop her movement with a firm but careful clench of my hand.
“Sleep now,” I whisper. “I’m fine.” This will do for the time being. But the next time I have her—and God help me, I hope there is a next time—I’m not going to stop at just tasting her.
Lauren