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His strong, sculpted arms curled possessively around me.
His scarred torso radiating with enough heat that made cuddling under the blanket more a luxury than necessity.
In fact, in that very position is exactly where I’d still be had he not gotten up to take a leak.
Decided that he was hungry again.
I’m not complaining, just saying, his body isn’t the only one that has to get used to an increased amount of attention.
The last dude that gave me anywhere near this many orgasms – and by near, I mean more than two in a span of twenty-four hours – moved to Dalvegan, Texas to open and manage a new branch of some health food store three years ago.
Wes’s wet muscle delivers its first sweep with ferociousness. Much like when he trapped me by my wrists last night, he secures me where he wants me by anchoring his calloused palms close to my hips and angling his hands so that his thumbs have perfect access to assist in his frenzied feasting. Long licks are littered in between savage sucks, both searching for the right combination…right collaboration…to get the results he’s clearly after.
Teases to my clit with just the tip of his tongue send my fingers to his disheveled hair to desperately pull for more; however, it’s the light, almost non-existent glides on top of the slickened nub that send me over the edge.
Have me bucking my hips up towards his lips, wordlessly imploring for more.
Unfortunately, he wants words.
Needs them.
“Beg,” the delectable tyrant stationed between my thighs demands. “Beg for me, little prey.”
The choice of reference to my favorite creatures in the world has me instantly whimpering, “Please, Wes.” I wait until his two-colored gaze glides up to my blue to add, “Please, eat me all up…”
An otherworldly groan precedes his entire mouth feverishly latching onto my pussy. Mouthful by mouthful he envelopes every inch he can reach, turbulent tongue oscillating between sharp, pointed spins and fierce flat whirls that bump into his thumbs which are assisting in spreading me wide. Eagerness to feel more and feel it faster leads me to lift my hips to chase the pleasure found in every swipe, yet I’m quickly pushed back down to the blanket.
Barbarously bruised by his other fingers as they keep me trapped in place.
Frustrated huffs fuse into blissful breaths that are accompanied by me relocating one set of fingers to my own hair. I tug on my strands at the same time I yank on his, treating them like puppet strings that control us both. My back bows harder on beatific moans while Wes’s frame dips lower during deeper, greedier growls. The intense vibrations remorselessly mix with his unrelenting tongue, causing me to arch more and more and more. Float higher and higher, so that the tips of my toes and top of my head are barely touching the blanket. All except the area in his control practically levitates off the ground, possessed by the euphoric sensations of being licked along with fucked by his tongue.
Choppy, sensual sighs get ceaselessly caught in my throat, choking my ability to scream.
Breathe.
Think.
They deprive me of my capability to do anything that isn’t conceding to the unremitting undulation until I’m launched over the edge of ecstasy during one, rough, all-consuming suck of my clit.
At that, screaming is the only acceptable action.
Sound.
Tool of communication.
“Wesssssss!” reverberates throughout the early morning sky to the same erratic pattern as the trembles overwhelming my body. “Wesssssss!”
I continue to ferally shake.
Scream.
Scream and shudder.
Pant and plead and pule for mercy.
A moment to regain my senses.
Sanity.
