Page 85 of (Not) The One
With my tongue. With my fingers. With my cock.
‘Shall I kiss you again while you ride my fingers?’
‘Don’t tease,’ she pleads, undulating under me as I skim my hand between her legs.
It could’ve gone one of several ways once we’d made it to the bedroom between kisses and touches, and the peeling bodies out of clothes. It might’ve been a fast and furious coupling, one where we barely made it to the bed. Or I could’ve lain her against the mattress and made sweet love to her in deference to her tender feelings and condition. Instead, a third option had presented itself. Perhaps the only option. The option that seems to sing out to both of us as her tongue darts out to wet her parched lips, tempting me to follow the path with my own tongue.
‘I never knew,’ she whispers, her words like velvet with such complicity. ‘I never knew it could be like this.’
The fact of the matter is, for all her pluck, Miranda is a touch submissive. And what a beautiful fact that is.I’d gotten my first inkling while she’d sat on the kitchen worktop that first night, her eyes dark and wide as I’d splashed whisky across her scraped knee. She’d taken it like a good girl, and I’ve wanted her ever since.
‘Open your legs for me, darling.’ Like the pages of a book, she reveals herself. ‘You’re so beautiful. You’re addictive. So sweet on my tongue. I want to kiss your cunt again and again.’ I graze my way down her body, sliding my tongue between her legs as her body surges under me, her cry a lovely broken thing.
Last time she was in my arms, she asked to make her forget. To make her feel like someone else. Tonight, I’ll leave her with no doubt of who she is. Of who she belongs to. Of who her orgasm belongs to.
She is Miranda.
The soon-to-be mother of my child.
And mine in every sense she’ll allow me.
‘Breathe, darling.’ A few deft flicks and I’m over her again. Her wrists are on the pillow still, one on top of the other, their position unchanged. The realisation is like a knot of pleasure in my gut, and as I wrap my fingers around my cock, her eyes avidly watch the movement. I slide my fist along my swollen length, bringing it over the crown with a well-practised twist.
‘I want to taste you.’ Her whisper is dark and throaty, a siren’s call not to be ignored. She makes as though to move at the same time I do, her body stilling under the weight of my hand. She gets it immediately. She wants to taste, and I want to feed.
With one hand on the wall behind her head and the other around the base of my aching cock, I lower myself to her lips. When her tongue darts out, my body bows at the unexpected contact.
‘I don’t know whether that was brave or foolish.’ My voice sounds gravelly, the knot of need in my stomach larger now, taut and tense.
‘More like a lack of patience,’ she purrs, that wicked tongue wetting her bottom lip, causing my blood to hum in my veins.
I feed myself between her lips, her lashes fluttering, her tongue caressing my frenulum. As I pull away, my thighs shake as her mouth puckers in a sucking kiss to my crown. I groan a long expletive, captive to her touch as I slide myself deeper into her mouth.
Her mouth stretched wide and her eyes not so innocent, I gently work myself in and out of her lips as she drags her tongue up the underside of my length, those mind-blowing sucking kisses delivered to the fat head.
‘I wonder if I’d taste better covered in your sweetness?’ Every inch of my skin is alive and burning as she hollows out her cheeks. ‘That’s right, darling. Suck me.’ Suck me hard.
Unable to resist, I lean down and fill her glistening pussy with my fingers. Again and again, we torture the other until Miranda isn’t the only one on the brink of giving in. I pull away, my breathing laboured as I slide my fist up my length again, her saliva easing the drag.
‘You didn’t answer,’ I rasp, closing my mouth against the notion of telling her how fucking unravelling it is to have my mouth on her right after she’s been stuffed full of my cock.
‘Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s impolite to speak with your mouth full?’
My dark laughter fills the room, her gaze glossy with another kind of pleasure. I note the hitch in her brows as I lean over her, grabbing a condom from the nightstand. She watches as I sheath myself, her gaze following as I take my position between her legs again. By some ancient and silent assent, I ease myself into her once again.
Deliberately slow.
Achingly slow.
Pushing the breath from her body as her body arches beneath mine, seeking that final relief.
‘Please—I need. I need this. I need you.’ Her voice falters on the last syllable, her body riding this wave. I grip her wrists again, grounding her at both ends as her body rebels.
‘I know you do.’ She thinks she needs harder and faster, not teasing touches and movements torturously slow, but she’s wrong. Because there’s a time for everything and everyone, and my time is now.
‘I feel—I need.’ I bring my mouth to hers in a long, lingering kiss as the ache in my chest expands with her words. I’ll draw the night out until she forgets to breathe. Empty her mind of those cluttered thoughts, the cacophony of her fears and anxieties. I’ll rid her of the thoughts weighing her down. I know I can help. Right now. In the future. I’ll be her broad shoulder to lean on. Bring her relief in all forms.
‘Let me take, sweet darling.’ Let me take you to that point and bring you back again and again. ‘Let me take you to pieces until you’re not sure where you begin or where you’ll end. Just breathe...’
