Page 13 of End Game

He savors the skin between my breasts and my pussy like he has all day to spend there.

I can feel myself getting wetter and wetter. I can feel arousal dripping down my ass and pooling on the bed under me.

I want to run my hands through his hair.

I want to beg him to just fuck me already.

But I know Ronan. More importantly, I know what I gave him when I agreed to this.

Control.

I don’t get to hand it over and then snatch it back just because I’m impatient.

So I leave the ties alone and let him take his time, even while every nerve in my body is screaming for more.

As his mouth trails closer, his hand runs up the inside of my thigh.

I gasp in both relief and shock as his fingers trail through the seam of my folds.

“So fucking wet, sweetheart,” Ronan groans. “Does this sweet little pussy need attention?”

He asks the question as he toys with the lips.

My only answer is a gasp and then a whimper.

I half expect Ronan to tell me to use my words, but he doesn’t.

He grips the underside of my knees and pulls up, spreading me open—and then he licks the full length of me.

“Fuck, you taste good,” he rasps.

One of his arms wraps around my thigh, and his fingers part me, while the fingers on the other hand enter me and begin to curl. He feels me for a few breaths, different angles. When he finds a spot that makes my hip rise, his fingers brush it over and over again.

Then, his mouth is on my clit. He sucks it into his mouth. The rhythm of his mouth matches the movement of his fingers inside me. Suddenly the hand holding me open moves and is pushing down on my lower belly, and it is only a breath after that when I don’t just come, I fucking detonate.

The orgasm crashes through my body. My thighs try to squeeze closed, and I pull on the restraints.

And, fuck, I knew Ronan would be good at this. Of course he would be. The man probably researched female anatomy and orgasms with the same intensity he uses to build a campaign.

Knowing that and being on the receiving end of it are apparently two very different things.

Fingers stay inside me, gently massaging, while his mouth roams back up my body.

“Cami, sweetheart,” he begins, brushing my hair back from my face. “I had very different plans from this for my first time with you, but this… this is fucking perfect.”

He kisses me deeply and then meets my eyes again.

“Still green?” he asks quietly

I nod and quietly answer, “Yes, still green.”

He smiles and kisses me quickly. Then he stands and finally frees his cock as he pulls down his boxer briefs.

I take him in. He’s not circumcised, which is new to me. When I trail my eyes up his body and meet his, he smirks at me, like he knows I was checking out his cock.

He strokes himself as he makes his way to the bed.

“Very different?” I ask with a smile.