There is something about the soul act of kissing another human, of fusing your mouths together, exploring, that can make or break an experience. From one kiss, I can tell if the man I’m locking lips with is worth the effort, if there’s hope for a future between us. The first time Tucker kissed me, I knew I was doomed. But now? I know I’ll be ruined for life.
He doesn’t mindlessly kiss me as a way to get to the next step. No. There is purpose in each flick of his tongue, of every movement of his mouth, as if he has a blueprint to my arousal and he’s following it step by step.
His body barely presses against mine, leaving his lips in charge, making me feel overwhelmed, needy, and so hot for him that I can’t control myself. I put my hands on his cheeks and try to pull him closer but fail when he pulls away. Lips swollen, he looks me in the eyes and says, “Hands linked above your head; keep them there until I say you can touch me.”
“Tucker . . .”
“You gave me control, baby. Trust me and listen.” When he calls me babe, I melt. When he calls me baby, I fall further and further for this man.
I link my hands and raise them above my head, which brings my breasts closer together. He groans when he takes me in, and when I think he’s going to return to my mouth for more kissing, he scoots down my body until his head is even with my chest. With his knee propping him up between my legs, he runs his left index finger in circles around my right nipple. He barely touches me, just circling and circling—madly—until I can feel my hips start to ride his jean-clad leg looking for release. He lifts his fingers and goes to the other nipple where he does the same kind of torture, burning me from the inside out.
My clit pounds. I need. Need him so much.
“God,” I gasp, surprising myself. I’ve never been one to vocalize during sex, but the way Tucker makes me feel, it’s hard to keep my mouth shut. “Tucker, touch me.”
“I am,” he whispers.
“Squeeze me,” I say on a moan, my hips really starting to move against his leg.
“Who’s in charge, baby?”
“You,” I groan, my eyes shut now as his nose starts to skim across my jaw, his breath hot and sweet on my neck.
His fingers continue to circle my nipple as he says, “Good.” His voice is firm and just when I think he’s going to continue to torture me, he pinches my nipple so hard that my upper body arches in response and a low moan escapes past my kiss-swollen lips. “Fuck, that’s sexy,” he mumbles, making his way down my neck to my breasts.
He continues to pluck and pull at my nipple while his mouth pays attention to the other, sucking it between his teeth where he nibbles, pressing down with just the right amount of pressure that I think I might just come from his touch alone. His mouth is so hot, so wet on my burning skin, causing a myriad of sensations to roll through my body. My clit pounds, begs, seeks release as his hands and mouth work along my breasts. He’s single-minded in his efforts; torture Emma in all the right ways.
Hands above my head, my naked body melting into the coolness of his comforter, I lose myself as this gorgeous man tongue-fucks my breasts, squeezing them with this hands, occasionally flicking my nipples, making me so aroused that I can’t feel anything but the solid, relentless beat that drums between my thighs.
Release.
Need it.
Badly.
I wiggle under him, knowing my efforts will go unnoticed by Tucker who has his own agenda, but I need to make it known that he’s driven me to the brink, that I’m there, provoked by his touch, ready, wet, and waiting.
“Tucker,” I breathe out heavily. “I’m so wet.” The words feel foreign coming from me, in such a sensual moment, but they also feel right, like I was meant to save them for this exact minute. It’s as though Tucker was brought into my life at this time to pull them out of me.
He hums over my breasts and lowers his head to my stomach, making me hyper aware of what he’ll do next. The feel of his scruff along my sensitive skin heightens my senses, acting as an electric bolt through my veins, turning the lights on deep within me. I never realized that up until this moment, sex had been an insignificant shadow, a passionless burning only Tucker Jameson could ignite.
“You taste like sweet honey,” he murmurs, working his way farther south. “Fuck, why did I wait so long for this? For you?” Gliding his hands down my stomach, he moves them past my hips to my thighs where he spreads them wide to accommodate for his broad shoulders. I’m completely exposed to him, in one of the most raw ways possible, and I feel nothing but comfortable. Ready.
His jaw deliciously scratches its way down to just above my pubic bone. He rests his chin on the center of my legs and leisurely runs his tongue back and forth over the sensitive skin a few inches below my belly button. I squirm relentlessly beneath him, just a few more inches . . .
“Has anyone every fucked you with their tongue, Emma?”
My mind feels like fog, his voice heavy in my heart but not registering as I’m clouded with anticipation. “What?” I ask, my breath heavy with each pass through my lungs.
He moves farther down, his face directly between my legs. With two fingers, he parts my slit and leans forward while looking up at me with those devastatingly smoldering blue-green eyes. “Has anyone ever . . .”—he lowers his head. My heart starts to beat out of my chest, my entire body tingling with numbness. His tongue peeks out of his mouth and very lightly, almost as if he doesn’t touch me, licks the length of my slit—“. . . tongue fucked you?”
My eyes are sealed shut, unable to bare the pleasure that waits for me. Above me, my fists grip onto the pillow my head rests on and I shake my head.
“I want to hear it from your beautiful lips. Tell me no one has ever tongue fucked you. Tell me I’m the first.”
Finding my voice, I weakly say, “You’re the first, Tucker. You’re the first man to tongue fuck me.”
He sighs and then shakes his head, his scruff rubbing against my inner thighs. I want more of that. “How is that even fucking possible?” He kisses me gently on my inner thighs, getting so close, that one swipe of his tongue gives me nothing and only makes me more frustrated. “Fun fact, Emma, I like eating pussy.” My legs clench from his confession, which makes him lightly chuckle. “But you’re going to have to show me those peepers of yours before I taste you. Open your eyes, Emma.”
In so much need, I do as he says, connecting with him in one of the most intimate ways possible.
“That’s it, baby. Keep those eyes on mine this whole time. Do not close them. I want to see you fall apart while I fuck you with my tongue. Got it, beautiful girl?”
I nod, feeling tears stinging the backs of my eyes for an unknown reason. Everything is heightened in me right now. I blame the threatening tears on that, not on the way Tucker seems to look straight into my soul.
“Good.”
He kisses me a few more times on my inner thighs until he moves his mouth over my center and flattens his tongue. His eyes trained on me, he presses his tongue against my clit and moves it upward applying just enough pressure to make me scream out his name.