Page 53 of Honeyfires

"Not yet," I said, pulling back. I straightened, pressing my front against her back, one hand cupping her breast and the other moving between her legs. "I want to try something. But you tell me if it's too much. The second it's too much."

"Anything," she said, and she meant it. "I trust you."

I slid two fingers inside her—wet and ready, clenching immediately around me—and worked her slowly, building her up, watching her hips rock back against my hand with small involuntary movements she wasn't quite controlling. When I felt her approaching the edge, I eased back, let my thumb slip through her arousal and circle that tight ring of muscle.

She tensed immediately. "Petra—"

"Relax, baby. I've got you." Light pressure, just circling, while my fingers kept working inside her. "Tell me if you want me to stop."

A beat passed. Two.

"Don't stop," she breathed. "Just—slow."

"Slow," I confirmed. "You're doing so well. You feel that? That's exactly right."

"Oh god, it feels—it feels—"

I pressed gently, just the tip of my thumb, feeling her begin to open. "Strange?"

"Yes, but—good—really fucking good—"

"Good," I said against her ear. "That's good. Stay still for me."

She was panting now, hips rocking between my hands with helpless urgency, chasing both sensations at once. I pressed deeper, slow and careful, my thumb sliding in to the first knuckle, and she cried out.

"More," she gasped. "Please—more—"

"Ask me properly."

"Please, Petra. Please."

I pressed deeper. Felt her clench around both my fingers and my thumb simultaneously, felt the flutter of her inner muscles building toward something enormous.

"That's it," I murmured against her neck. "Let go, baby. I've got you. Come for me."

She shattered. A scream that rang off every tile in the shower, her whole body convulsing, her hands slapping hard against the wall as the orgasm tore through her. I felt everything—her ass clamped tight on my thumb, her pussy pulsing against my fingers—and I fucked her through all of it, gentling my touch in careful increments as the waves began to subside.

When she finally stilled, I withdrew slowly and turned her in my arms. She was barely standing, eyes glazed, weight soft against me.

"Holy shit," she breathed.

"Yeah?" I pushed wet hair back from her face.

"I've never—I didn't know it could feel like that." She looked up at me with something wondering in her eyes. "How did you know?"

"I pay attention," I said. "You're easy to learn."

"You're corrupting me."

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"It's definitely not a bad thing." Her hands, still slightly unsteady, slid between my legs, finding me soaked. Her eyes darkened. "Your turn." She looked up at me. "Tell me how you want it."

That was new. The asking. The waiting for instructions rather than deciding herself.

I looked at her for a moment, flushed, dripping, entirely spent and entirely willing.

"On your knees," I said.