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The first few licks of his tongue are teasing, as if he’s searching for the spots that make me respond.
He moves confidently, yet unhurriedly. My hands weave their way into his hair, and when he sucks on my most sensitive spot, I moan, holding him in place.
“Right there,” I say breathlessly. “Gods this is so much better than my own fingers.”
He chuckles, and the vibration of his mouth sends a jolt through me. When he teases my opening with a finger, slowly pressing it inside of me as he works me with his tongue, I cry out.
“It’s—I’m so close.” My fingers grip his hair so tightly as I hold him in place. “Wait, wait,” I say.
He stops, and my wet core throbs, desperate for his return. He peers up at me, his eyes widening with concern. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t want to come like this.” His brows furrow with confusion. “I want you—inside of me. I want us to come apart, together.”
He groans, running a hand over his face. “You’re killing me.”
“Please?”
“When I’m finally inside of you, Alessia, I promise it will not be here in a dream.” His lips tilt up in a wicked grin. Without warning, he plants his lips back on me. After a few minutes of him working in that same, deliciously sensitive spot with relentless consistency, I’m writhing beneath him.
“Rainer!” A storm of pleasure courses through me, and my whole body quivers. Once the waves pass, and I’m too sensitive for his touches, he sits back on his heels and wipes his glistening mouth with the back of his hand.
“Oh my gods,” I whisper. “That was—”
I trail off, distracted by the image of him tugging himself. His eyes are half-mast, and his muscles bulge as he works his hand up and down his shaft, twisting in a corkscrew motion. Driven by a new wave of passion, I shift onto my knees and crawl over to him.
Before he can say anything, I lick the head of him tentatively. It’s unexpectedly salty, but I like it.
“I’ve never done this before,” I whisper.
He groans. “Bloody hell.”
I grip him, my hand looking so small around him. “Will you tell me what to do?”
Before he can reply, there’s a loud bang on the door.
“Ignore it,” Rainer mutters. “Stay asleep a little longer.”
“Rainer,” Ken calls. His voice sounds distorted, far away. “It’s important.”
Rainer tenses, but instead of disengaging me or answering Ken, he grips the back of my head.
“Open your mouth, my little rose.” His term of endearment sends a tickle through my belly.
I open wide, and he slides into my mouth. I try not to let my teeth scrape him, pressing his flesh against my tongue as I suck him down.
“Just like that,” he whispers. “Take me like a good girl.” I moan my agreement, and he fists my hair, picking up his pace as he thrusts into my mouth. “You take my cock so good.”
The banging on the door picks up, and it only spurs him on. I can’t deny there’s a small thrill at being caught.
My eyes water as Rainer hits the back of my throat, and my face is wet—covered in tears and spit. I gag, and he hisses.
“Take it all,” he says. With two final thrusts, he grunts and shoots a salty stream into the back of my throat. “Swallow me down.”
I obey, swallowing his pleasure and trying not to choke. Finally, he pulls out and I gasp for breath. Gods if that wasn’t the most decadent experience of my life.
“You, mo róisín, are a good dream in a world of nightmares.” He presses his lips to mine, merging both of our tastes together.
The door bangs open, and I squeal, jolting. My face is flushed, my body still trembling from Rainer’s touch.
