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Her eyes slit open, and he held her drunken stare, dipping his tongue in her opening. Her mouth popped open with a sharp cry, her eyes holding his as he plunged his tongue with a groan, spreading her lips wide. “So. Fucking. Good.” He slid his tongue up for a leisure circle around her little bud, again groaning at her reaction.
“Oh please, Neelo, please. I can’t take it.”
“You need to come,” he knew. “So many times.” He placed delicate kisses on her clit, flicking it teasingly with his tongue in between.
“I’m going to! Oh! Suck me!”
He captured her clit and obeyed her sweet plea, trapping her hips in his fingers and riding the buck of her pussy against his ruthless mouth. He gave her a growling suck as her cries rose until she finally broke. But not until she shuddered her last tremor and gave up every moan did he release her.
Fuck, he was somehow more lost in her.
He moved his face along her silky thigh, the sound of her receding orgasm pure poetry in his soul. He needed to go so much deeper in her. But she was in his ropes. There were questions that needed answers still. Should he forget all of them and offer a do-over truce?
He lowered onto the bed and lay next to her. Moving onto his elbow, he stared at her pretty face, not wanting to disturb the silky bliss she was still wrapped in. “Did you like it?” he finally whispered, sliding his finger along her temple.
Her nod was as soft as her “Yes.”
“A scale of one to ten?” he asked, almost feeling like a boy after tying his first complicated knot.
She wet her lips, her breaths slowing more as her face flushed a little. “Fifty.”
The outrageous number was music to his blood which still hadn’t left his cock. She turned and looked at him, her pretty eyes lowering to the smile he wore. She raised her gaze to his again, the questions in her dark eyes popping all the bubbles in his joy. “What is it Fyoo-rie?”
She turned her face to the ceiling, her chest heaving for many seconds. “I’msorry.”
The gasped confession came with tears that he quickly kissed as they fell.
“I’m not the person you think I am,” she said on a tiny squeak that speared right through his chest.
“Well, that’s a relief,” he softly joked, stroking her silky cheek. “I was wondering if I’d ever see the woman I met on our first date.”
She choked out a sob, turning her face away more. “You won’t meet her because she doesn’t exist. I was just pretending because... because… who I am doesn’t exist!”
He gently captured her jaw and turned her face, pausing at the amount of resistance she gave. “Look at me Fyoo-rie.”
“I can’t,” she strained, her chest heaving. “I’m ashamed that I lied to you but… I always lie.”
“What do you mean you don’t exist?” he asked, sure that was the knot to tackle first.
“I mean the person people see is fake, it’s not me.”
“Then who are you?”
“Nobody,” she choked out. “Every person I am is… borrowed from a book I read,” she gasped, her shame burning him.
“And why do you think you can’t pretend?” he wondered, trying to get at what she was seeing.
She snapped her tear-filled gaze at him. “You want me to pretend?”
“No-no-no,” he soothed, sliding his finger over the furrow in her brow. “I’m wondering why pretending is now a problem for you.”
She stared at him for many seconds, the question seeming difficult for her. She finally turned away again. “Because…”
The tiny squeak lit him on fire as his lungs held on to his breath, waiting. “There is no wrong answer with me, Fyoo-rie. You are safe to be you.”
“But that’s just it,” she wailed quietly, keeping her face turned as far as she could. “That woman you liked was fake.”
“Then I would like to meet the real you.”
