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“Did he hurt you here, too, my girl?”
Her flesh felt nice in my hands as I squeezed her ass cheeks, thriving on the fact that within a little more than a month, thanks to her love of bagels, pasta, and French fries, I’d managed to fill out her starved body to a slightly healthier weight.
Her shoulders hitched in a shrug.
She couldn’t remember all the places she’d been violated, but I still wanted to wipe away any possible memory that could ever invade her mind
I took her shrug as a yes, moving my mouth back to her pussy.
I started with my tongue on her clit, flicking back and forth.
Pretty pink nails pushed up my sleeves and jabbed into my skin. Their color twinkled and bewitched me. I let my tongue drift from a gentle, innocent lapping to rough and eager.
And she moaned.
She fucking moaned for me.
And my cock twitched, desperate to be inside her.
But I couldn’t fuck this up.
Tonight wasn’t about me.
It was about building up her confidence and her trust and taking away her fears. Rushing her wouldn’t do that, and patience would reward me.
I pushed my tongue back inside her pussy and pressed a finger to her puckered hole.
She tensed again, every muscle and bone locking.
I hummed her song—my song into her, sending peaceful vibrations through her body, and she slowly turned lax, giving me her trust.
Slowly, I entered her with a finger, gently massaging the inside of her walls and feeling over past abuse.
It brought tears to my fucking eyes. Tears of anger, of pain—the first I’d let form in more than twenty years over a sexual assault. Hers hurt me the most, crushing my soul to the point I could barely suck air into my lungs.
A tear rolled down my cheek and landed on her clit, and she moaned again, bringing me back to the present, where she was, writhing beneath my tongue, safe and hiding her flushed cheeks behind that damn raccoon, making me wish again that I didn’t buy the damn thing.
But making me laugh, too.
She moved her fingers to my head, and those perfectly filed nails raked through my hair as she coyly guided me closer.
“Tell me what you want, Cat,” I whispered, so close to her wet cunt, her arousal glossed my lips. “Tell me where you want my tongue, and I’ll do exactly what you want.” I sucked her taste into my mouth, close to snapping, close to becoming the boy she couldn’t remember and not the man I wanted to be...for her. “Tell me.”
“I want…” A flutter of nerves caught up, but she quickly shook them away. “I want your tongue back inside me, bending in that way that you do. I want you to worship me, Remi.”
Fucking always.
Her tiny hands curled around fistfuls of my hair when my tongue slid inside her slit, and I French kissed her cunt like I later would her mouth. I moaned over the idea of feeding her taste to her, sending vibrations to pleasure points, as I enjoyed her taste, too.
I fucked her slowly with my tongue, my finger moving to the same rhythm deep in her other hole, a thin wall between us, full of pleasurable nerves.
She was wet, soaking, her taste dripping down my throat. My name on her tongue, coming out in gentle moans.
It was almost too much for me.
She bucked her hips slightly, a plea for my tongue to go deeper inside of her. I pumped once, twice.
“More...more, Remi.”
