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The door closes with a soft thunk, and Kristof jerks off my panties with one swift move.
“Kristof,” I gasp as my heart races and heat sweeps across my body in a prickling wave. Hastily wiping my tears away, the mixture of happy and sad dissipates, replaced by desire.
Strong hands lock around my thighs and pull me to the edge of the counter. The firmer bristles of Kristof’s beard graze against the insides of my thighs, sending electric shocks of anticipation right to my core, and then he’s there, hot breath ghosting across my bare pussy, and my heart hitches into my throat.
“There’s my good girl,” Kristof rumbles from between my legs. I try to clutch at his head through my skirt, but the fabric gets in the way.
Then he lightly kisses the outer lips of my pussy. Anticipation darts through me. Then he surges forward and buries his mouth against my pussy like a man possessed.
His tongue presses between my folds, sweeping from my entrance up to my clit, then back again, repetitive strokes that are broken only by his lips kissing and lightly nibbling against my clit. He kisses me all over, not leaving a single inch of me untouched, and it’s heaven.
What strength I have leaves me with each lap of his tongue, and I slowly sink backward onto the counter. The coolness of the countertop is welcome against my overheated skin, but it soon fades away as the marble warms to my touch and my writhing.
Just as the flat presses of Kristof’s tongue become familiar, he switches it up and the firm tip of his tongue flicks across my core, focusing on my clit. Shocks of pleasure dart through me, and I jerk to the touch, not that I can go anywhere. His hands lock around my thighs and keep me pressed against him, at the mercy of his mouth.
It’s so erotic, and I match his strength by locking my ankles together at his back and keeping him just as caged against me. I have no doubt that he could break free, but the fact that he allows it is what gives me satisfaction.
I close my eyes and grip my breasts with both hands, squeezing as my nipples harden to pebbles. I want more, always more, as his mouth works against me with fervor.
“Fuck.” Tossing my head back and forth, my mind closes in on the pleasure building in my core. Each stroke and stab of Kristof’s tongue is molten hot against me, and my temperature rises, making my clothes scrape roughly against my overly sensitive skin.
I want to feel Kristof against me.
Suddenly, my mind stutters as two spit-slicked fingers thrust inside me, breaking my focus from his tongue to the penetration. The break doesn’t last long as Kristof’s fingers crook inside me and hit that hidden bundle of nerves. Pleasure collides, and I arch off the counter, a pleasure-filled cry tearing from my lips.
There’s a battle between his tongue and his fingers, not that I care who wins. I’ll be the victor regardless. Heat pools rapidly in my lower belly, and my muscles clench, rippling almost in time to my fluttering pulse.
I’m close. I’m so fucking close.
“Please!” I need his permission. He praises me for being good, and I want to show him just how good I can be, so despite the alluring pleasure, I try to resist. I can’t come without permission.
Kristof ignores me for now, but my cry has him doubling his efforts. Open-mouth kisses against my lips that end in him sucking at my clit send my mind into a noiseless overdrive. I teeter on the cusp of climax, held back by a threadbare determination to make him proud, and he knows it.
He knows exactly how to play me.
I resist for as long as I can. Sweat breaks out across my body, and my hair clings to the back of my neck. I’m too hot, too wrapped up in clothes, too close to an orgasm and utterly at his mercy.
“Come for me, sweet thing.”
My body releases on instinct, and I come so hard, everything goes numb. Moans pour like a waterfall past my lips, and every nerve, from my head to my core, lights up on fire. Pleasure courses through me, and for a few long seconds, I am suspended in utter and complete bliss.
It doesn’t hit me that Kristof is no longer between my legs until his lips press gently to my own. I latch onto him immediately, gripping his neck with both hands and kissing him back repeatedly.
“Good girl,” he says in a low voice, peppering kisses all over my face. “I’m so proud of you, so fucking proud.”
Catching my breath, I chase his lips as he leans away and slowly sit up. My core tingles with the phantom press of his mouth, and I moan slowly, gathering my thoughts.
“You… you mean it? You’re really happy?”
Kristof’s brow flickers and he cups my cheeks, meeting my gaze. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Well, we’ve never… never talked about kids. I didn’t even know it was something you wanted.”
“Nothing about our relationship is conventional,” he points out. “But I knew the risks and I made peace with them a long time ago. I want you, Alena. I’ve always wanted you and everything that comes with it.”
“Really?” Again, the tears threaten. “You want to be a father?”
“With you?” He sweetly kisses my forehead. “Absolutely.”
