Page 48 of Resurrecting the Witch
“I haven’t ever done that.”
“Done what?” I wanted her to say it. She needed to learn to speak to me.
“I’ve never, you know.” Her eyes shifted in my direction. “Sat on someone’s face before.”
I grinned at her. “Then I am glad to be the first throne for your cunt.” I sat up and spread my legs and pulled her between them with my hands gripping both sides of her arse. “Do you trust me, Cliona?”
“Yes.” She didn’t hesitate and that had my dominate instincts preening.
“Then let me take care of your need. Let me feast on your warm cunt and drink from your pussy like I’ve dreamed since I tasted you last week.”
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
“That’s my good girl.”
She opened and met my stare, and then nodded. “Yes sir.”
Feck me. I could listen to her call me sir forever.
I leaned back down on the bed and pulled her with me, so she straddled my chest. It was so wide that she couldn’t really comfortably straddle it, but I pushed her higher until I felt her palms rest on the headboard above me.
“Little bit further, Cliona,” I whispered, inhaling her scent like it was my last meal. “You smell so feckin’ good,mo peata.”
I was drooling and couldn’t wait anymore. I grabbed her arse one more time and pulled her the rest of the way up. She yelped in surprise, but it quickly turned into a moan as I swiped my tongue through her cunt.
I had never tasted a cunt as perfect as Cliona’s.
“Feck me, witchling,” I murmured against her pussy. I felt her hesitation, like she still wasn’t fully giving in and sitting on me. I was going to have to coax her into it.
I swept my tongue through her again and heard the deep moan leave her lips and smiled against her.
“Oh goddess,” Cliona breathed the words lightly as if she couldn’t connect with the language part of her brain.
“Oh, Patrick, is what you mean.” I couldn’t help but correct her, then returned to my meal. I licked and sucked and pulled her down to try and suffocate myself until she finally gifted me with her hips moving, writhing against my face like she couldn’t help it.
She was finally riding my face like I need her too and I moaned in response, lifting my own hips at the movement.
“Ride my feckin’ face,mo peata,” I murmured against her pussy and then got back to eating her like dessert.
“Oh fuck I’m going to come, sir,” he moaned into the air.
“Come on my face,” I demanded, kneading her arse in my own need, taking a final breath. “Come on my face so you can finally come on my cock.”
I leaned up and sucked her clit in my mouth. That finally put her over the edge. Her pussy clamped around my face as I licked all her cum into my mouth.
“So feckin’ perfect. Such a good girl coming on my face,mo peata.”
I rubbed at her arse again before flipping us over.
“Please,” she begged, looking up at me with her bright eyes shining in need.
“Please what?”
“Please, fuck me, sir.”
I lifted her up so I could take her T-shirt with Michael Myers’s face on it and threw it off the bed, revealing the two most gorgeous tits I’d ever seen. They were big, too big for me to hold in one of my hands. I squeezed them until her nipples hardened into stiff peaks that I needed to suck on more than I needed oxygen.
“Oh fuck,” she mumbled as I took the first nipple into my mouth while I pinched her other one. “Fuck, Patrick. Please.” I let it go with a pop and then leaned in to bite her, scraping my elongated canines along her flesh, not hard enough to hurt but enough to bring a different sensation. She gripped my hair in the bun it was still in and forced me to the other one.
