Page 18 of (Not) The One
I cry out as he slides two fingers deep inside, the intrusion so slick and sublime, and such a relief. My hands fist the sheets as though to hang on to the sensation, to the moment, as his lips envelop my clit. His tongue, and his lips, and his fingers drive me to the brink of ecstasy as he whispers the filthiest of things.
‘You’re so pink and so . . . wet... and so fucking perfect.’
‘I’m so hard for you. Can you feel it?’
I’m not sure if one-night stands are supposed to be this intense, or how his dirty whispers and guttural moans are as unravelling and as necessary as his touch, but one thing I do know is that he was right. I’m drunk on the experience as he licks and tastes and absolutely savours me.
Until he stops, moving the magic slide of his tongue and the tantalising bristle of his stubble from between my legs. I’m close—so close—and I almost sob as he pulls back. His lips and chin shine with my wetness, his fingers no longer deep inside me, but trailing wetly down my leg.
‘Nobody likes a tease,’ I counter, rewarded by his dark chuckle.
‘Maybe I don’t want you to like me. Maybe I just want you to beg.’ His words are delivered with a deliciously dark edge.
‘Maybe I wantyouto beg.’ His body bows forward as I wrap my hand around the thick length of him. His groan isthe sexiestsound. With his head buried against my neck, I explore his silken head with my fingertips. The thick ridge of his crown, his weight and girth, the satin feel of him.Satin over steel.
‘I need to be inside you.’ I taste myself in his kisses as, in the dim light, I press my hand on his shoulder; an invitation for him to roll onto his back.
What man would say no to that?
‘Fuck.’ The muscles in his thighs tighten as I take his shaft in my hand and swipe my tongue across the head. Then I press my lips together at the tip in a kiss before enveloping his crown.
‘That’s good. That’s so fucking good.’ His hands gather my hair to the side, his gaze hooded as he watches me work him farther into my mouth.
This—this act—it’s never been my favourite. But his taut breaths and tight moans, and the way he reacts to the slightest brush makes me want to torture him a little. Makes me want to drive him to the edge, to the point he’s unable to take anymore.
‘Jesus.’ I begin to work him in earnest now, my moaning around the length of him as I bob my head, fingers gripping and twisting at the root. His head falls back, and for a moment, I thinkI win.But if I win, maybe I also lose?
I don’t have time to process the thought as he hooks his hand under my arm, my mouth moving off him with a wet sucking sound.
‘Get up here.’
In an instant, I’m flat on my back with my heels digging into the creaky mattress, positioned so by James. I’ve never felt so exposed or been spread so shamelessly, but I don’t have a moment to protest or process as his tongue swipes between my legs.
‘My turn,’ he growls against my flesh as he begins to flick my clit with the very end of his tongue, honed to a point. ‘Your pussy tastes so good.’
The contrast of his accent against the coarseness of his words is like a layer of pleasure too much, a layer resulting in my arching against his mouth.
‘That’s right, darling, feed me your pussy. Cover me in your cream.’
‘Don’t tease,’ I whimper, arching under him.
‘I’m just returning the favour.’
‘Please, I need—’ Need something. Need it all.
‘All you need to do is ask,’ he responds in a quiet growl, his gaze crawling up my body from where he lies between my legs. ‘Ask like a good girl, and I’ll make it so good for you.’ His accent, the way he looks at me. I want to keep it—bottle it like a genie to experience it again and again. I close my eyes as I drop my head back against the hard bed.
‘Please,’ I whisper, my eyes on the ceiling, my fingers clenched and my toes curled. ‘Please make me come with your mouth.’
‘Such a good girl.’ His groan is pure masculinity. ‘Such beautiful manners.’ His fingers spread me open as his tongue works me like I wouldn’t have thought possible. The man should teach a class to share his gift with the world. Who knew it could be like this? And then I’m coming, coming hard, pushing myself into his face, my hands on his head, my orgasm crawls upwards from my thighs, exploding like a grenade with a pulled pin.
I don’t have the wherewithal to protest as he moves, his body slick against mine. In fact, I’m not sure I’ll ever move again as he rises above me, tearing open the condom wrapper with his teeth before sheathing himself rather expertly in latex.
Another sight I want to capture for replay.
‘You’re staring.’
‘You’re not complaining,’ I counter, causing his mouth to quirk before his gaze falls to where I’m wet and spread. His fingers reach out to swipe through my wetness, but the sensation is too much, causing me to hiss—a hiss that counters his masculine grunt as he falls forward, catching himself on his palm next to my head. In his other hand, he holds his hard cock, deliberately pressing himself against my wet flesh.
