As I nibble on her flesh, my fingers find the waistband of her yoga pants and panties. She wiggles her ass as I slip them from her body. I pull away from her and sit up on my knees. In the darkness, all I can make out is her shadowy form. Using my fingertips, I touch her swollen lips and then drag them down her throat, between her breasts, and along her still flat belly. When I run them over her pubic bone, she lets out a whimper.
“Baylee,” I plead as I push her knees apart, “can I taste you? I need to taste you.”
She lets out a sexy kitten-like mewl that has my cock straining to get free of my jeans. “Can you? Will you freak out? I don’t want to gross you out.” The shaky way she says her words lights a fire to the madness inside my head. It rages within me, eager to burn away the demons and burn bright with her light.
“You could never in a million years gross me out,” I vow. And I mean it. Never fucking ever.
Her legs relax at my words and she lets them fall to the sides. I lean forward and inhale her feminine scent that’s only unique to her. As I lower myself to her *, I become dizzied with the desire to devour her.
I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.
“You smell so…” I trail off, trying to find the right words, “clean.”
She giggles, a sound so pure it should be banned from this ugly world and only reserved for a place like heaven. “Way to make a girl feel special, War.”
Her laughter dies in her throat the moment my lips hesitantly brush against her pubic bone. I lightly press a kiss there that has her breaths coming out in quick succession. The desire to count them is overshadowed by the craving to learn every inch of her pretty *.
At first, I kiss her slowly until I reach her clit that seems to be throbbing with need. Using my thumbs, I open her like a special gift I don’t believe I’ve earned, and taste her almost tentatively.
Sweet.
Sexy yet pure.
A taste like nothing else on this earth.
“War,” she moans as I drag my tongue along her slit.
The way she says my name drives me crazy—crazy in a good way and I want her to do it over and over again. I want to count how many times she chants it. And I hope it will be an uncountable number.
My tongue seems to know exactly what she wants because soon I’m sucking and lapping at her, and she is squirming like a woman possessed on the bed. Her fingers have long since threaded into my hair and she pushes and pulls me to where she wants me. I let her be the guide and use my tongue for her own sexual gratification.
“Don’t stop,” she pleads and holds my head in place.
Of course I won’t stop. I don’t think I’ll ever stop. A part of me wonders if we are each other’s cure. Some magical remedy to my afflictions in my head and a glue for the broken pieces of her heart. A way for us to be free but together. Because when I’m between her legs, consuming all that is her, I can’t think of anything else.
Just Baylee.
My Baylee.
Forever.
And I hope to God she’s only thinking about me.
“Oh!” she shrieks one, two, three seconds before she thrashes against the bed with an orgasm I’ve never had the joy to experience with her. An orgasm that takes hold of her soul and rattles it ruthlessly. Her moans and yelps are a chant I don’t understand but somehow feel deep down in my bones. Pure bliss and soul satisfying pleasure.
I gave that to her.
And I’ll keep giving until I take my very last breath on earth.
“That was…” she trails off.
I press one last soft kiss to her clit before I sit back up on my knees. Her heavenly body is invading my senses—taste, smell, touch. For a man who obsesses over cleanliness, I find myself wanting her scent on me at all times. A constant reminder of the love of my life—a way to get me through my day.
It’s addicting.
Distracting.
And oh so fucking delicious.
“Do you need to, um,” she questions softly, almost embarrassed, “brush your teeth?”
A warm chuckle erupts from me and I crawl between her spread legs, hovering above her. My lips brush against hers and she lets out a soft gasp.
“I quite like your taste, Bay,” I tell her truthfully. “I’d like to keep you there for a little while longer if that’s okay with you.”
She laughs, so soft and sweet, but I silence the sweet sound with my mouth. I want her to taste what I taste. To understand just how perfect she is to me. Her fingers dance along my rib cage as I kiss her and she hugs me to her. My cock is straining against my jeans and I want to yank it out so I can make love to her. But I want to tend to her needs first.
“Baylee, my strong, sweet, beautiful girl,” I praise as I pull away from her and sit up on my knees. “I’ll never get enough of you. Marry me, please.”
I can feel her smile. I don’t have to see it to feel it. With Baylee, she smiles with her soul. You can feel that shit. It isn’t something you have to see because her smile is a living, breathing entity.
“I thought you were supposed to get on one knee,” she teases.
I run my palms over her belly and stroke her reverently. “Technically I’m on two. Does that mean I’m doubly serious about my request?”