Page 100 of Drowning in Darkness

“While you’re staying with me, only two people are allowed to touch this pretty swollen pussy,” I tell her before scraping my teeth over the silk.

Her frown is adorable. “Two?”

“Yes. Me, and with permission, you.”

She snorts. “I don’t need permission to touch myself.”

I lean back. “You’re right; you don’t. But if this is going to work, you’re going to have to trust me, and that includes handing over your pleasure.”

“I do trust you. Please touch me.”

There isn’t anything on this earth that could stop me now. I shouldn’t have kissed her. I shouldn’t have touched her. And I definitely shouldn’t have listed all the dark thoughts that caught embers in her eyes. But it’s too late. I can give her what she needs without going too far. I can help her find pleasure and confidence without the danger many men would present when gifted that trust. I can show her how to maintain control even when she hands it over. I can teach her what it means to do this safely and how to spot the predators.

Now I know I’ve lost my mind when I’m reasoning I’m the bar her future partners should reach for.

I breathe her in, and she groans, even from that light sensation. There’s no way I’m leaving this room without tasting her. It would be more of a torment to leave it to my imagination.

I hook my fingers into the sides of her panties and pull them over her curvy ass and off her legs. I leave the boots on, enjoying the view of her laid out like a feast.

She’s waxed, soft, swollen, and so fucking wet it glistens.

I grip her knees and push them apart, wanting a slight burn in her muscles that grounds her, but nothing too much. Her knees touch the wood without much resistance, and my brows quirk.

“What? I do yoga,” she murmurs.

Well, that’s going to make things interesting.

My nose nudges her clit, and her chest lifts, her hands fisting at her sides.

“Do you enjoy it when a guy goes down on you?” I should sit her down and figure out what she already knows she likes.

“I have no idea. Looks fun, though.”

My head jerks up. “What do you mean you have no idea?”

She blinks. “Exactly what I said.”

“Nobody has ever put their mouth on you?”

“No.”

“Then brace yourself, sweetheart. This might be a little intense.”

My head spins at the first lick of her. There’s no way she should taste of berries here. It’s a mindfuck. A spell maybe? Because she’s sweet and addictive no matter where I put my mouth.

I work out a rhythm that makes her gasp and squirm beneath my hands. My tongue flicking against her swollen clit before sweeping through the ambrosia leaking from her pussy.

“Stop treating me like I’m fragile,” she demands.

I grin as our eyes meet, and I push two fingers inside her. Her spine arches, and she curses. Jesus, she’s tight. I panic for a hot second that I’ve hurt her, but then her walls ripple around my fingers, gripping them tight enough to make me pause. I massage in small circles, coaxing her body to reach that high.

“Oh my god,” she hisses. “Don’t stop.”

I wouldn’t dream of it. She’s so close, but she might need… I lift my mouth away and with my free hand, slap her clit, hard enough to sting and to gather the extra rush of blood. My mouth latches around her clit, and I suck hard.

She comes with a scream. Her chest flushes beautifully, followed by her cheeks.

I take a minute to bring her down, taking care not to overstimulate.