Page 29 of Monster Made
“Ow!”
“How sore?”
“A… uhm… a little sore.”
Another nip has me squealing in pain.
“Quill! Ouch!”
“Tell me the truth. How can I trust myself not to hurt you if you don’t tell me the truth?”
“Oh.” I hadn’t thought about it that way before. “Uhm… well, now that you mention it, pretty sore.”
He edges down, pulling off the jeans and panties that have remained around my ankles, before nudging my thighs apart again. Then he licks my slit, making my core tingle with need.
“Oooh, Quill…”
“Too sore for that?”
I shake my head. The touch of his tongue against me actually soothes me, and it reignites all my arousal, which had been hidden under the soreness. It’s all I can do to keep myself from forcing his head down against me. Instead, I press my hands against my burning hot cheeks as he continues to lave at my folds with his tongue. It still feels so weird and embarrassing to be touched like this, but I can’t say I hate it. In fact, I don’t hate it at all.
His tongue finds all the places that have me going nuts. My clit, which he sucks and toys with, the spot deep within me that his tongue tortures again and again. It takes a surprisingly short time for me to reach the crest of the wave that has me bucking and spasming, but just as I do, he edges back.
“Quill!” I gasp, assuming he thinks I’ve already come.
This time, I can’t help but grab his head by his thick, curly locks, and push him down toward me. At once, he grabs my wrists and pins them under my ass with one hand.
“Behave, cricket,” he chortles.
With his other hand, he spreads my folds, and whatever embarrassment I felt before is increased a thousandfold as I feel his eyes study every single part of my most secret spot. I know my pussy is spasming with frustration at being denied at the last minute, and as his examination continues, I start to wonder if I’m going to die from humiliation.
“Qui-i-ll,” I whine, “what are you doing?”
“Memorizing you,” he breathes.
“Quill, I…” I wriggle in discomfort, but he keeps a firm hold on my pussy lips, staring at what’s between them as if he’s studying for an exam. “I didn’t come before.” I swallow with difficulty. “I don’t know if you realized it. I didn’t come before.”
At that, he looks up with an evil grin. “I know.”
“Oh, okay. So, uhm…” My face is positively flaming as I try to understand the meaning of his smile. “Can you, uh… do that, then? Do the thing where, uhm… I come?”
His smirk turns into a teasing chuckle. “Nope.”
“Nope?”
“You’re far too sore, cricket. No coming for you.”
But as soon as he’s said those words, he dips down and gives me a long, wet lick that has my stomach clenching again. He’s still spreading me with his fingers, and his tongue swirls around every inch of me, from my very center to my inner lips, to the space around my clit. But this time, he doesn’t touch the bud itself, and his tongue only plays at my entrance. It somehow feels all the more tantalizing for him to avoid the two places where all my nerve endings are concentrated. My clit is actually throbbing, and I try to writhe myself toward his mouth toforcehim to touch me where I need it. By the time he looks up at me, his lips flattened once more in a smirk, I’m sweating with frustration, and closer to saying the F-word than I’ve ever been in my life.
“Don’t you know where my clit is?” I ask in exasperation.
He snorts with laughter. “Is it here?”
He ducks down and delivers a single lick to my swollen bud.
“Yes,” I gasp. “Yes, Quill, yes…”
But apparently he’s completely clueless. That, or he’s decided to make up for his gentle moment by torturing me until I’m a slobbering, quivering mess. I have a feeling it’s the latter as his tongue begins to toy with my clit so lightly that I can’t possibly hope to reach orgasm. Instead, I’m reduced to a whiny pile of jell-o, twitching helplessly as he kisses and licks at me.
