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Then his tongue is on me, soft and warm and long and flat.
My shoulder blades press against the wall as he strokes me higher, stoking a tidal surge of feeling into the tip of my bud.
Every lap of his tongue builds the feeling higher. His licks are relentless. Merciless. Brilliant and driven, like him.
He changes his tongue. It feels pointy and stabby now. “Please, Henry, please.”
Harsh fingers grip my thighs. His tongue seems actually to curl against my bud.
“I didn’t know a tongue could do so many…shapes.”
He stops licking and looks up at me, dark hair wild, eyes glittering. He’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
“That’s what you’re getting out of all this?” he asks. “The wonderful world of the human tongue?”
“No! Please, go back!”
“I love how wet you are for me.” He traces a drip of wetness on my thigh to where it disappears. He finds another.
I need him so bad, I’m shaking. “You have to go back.” Sweat trickles down my spine. “Please.”
“You’re even hotter begging like this.”
I grip the rail. “Please.”
His mouth is near my clit again—I can tell by the heat of his breath. He holds me in place, traps me with his hands and mouth. I’m his prisoner.
Finally his mouth is back on me again. He feasts on me. I whimper and squirm.
Hot, determined fingers dig harder into my ass as he licks me into a frenzy. The world begins to dissolve around me.
When he sucks the bud of my clit into his mouth, my breath goes shallow. “Oh,” I say. One short, sharp word.
He gives it another pull and the pleasure crashes over me, crashing and breaking over me like a wave. Explosions of surf and pleasure and white-hot light.
My head falls back against the wall panel. My breath saws in and out. He’s stopped the licking but his mouth hovers there, like he can breathe in my ecstasy.
He moves up my body to stand in front of me. I’m shivering, shaking.
His hands cradle my cheeks as he rains kisses over my face. “We’re going in there, baby, and I’m going to strip you naked and fuck the daylights out of you. I’m going to fuck you like there’s no tomorrow. You good with that?” He kisses me again. Again.
His words drug my veins. Good drugs, wild and intoxicating. My mind is thinking yes, and then I’m whispering it. Yes, yes, yes, to the rhythm of his kisses.
He pulls back, studies my eyes.
I mouth his name. Long and slow, I mouth it. Hen-ry.
He exhales raggedly. His hands are on me. He’s picking me up. I scream as I’m whirled around. He carries me through his place, past low lights. Past furnishings. Kitchen. Walls. Hall. Into a spacious bedroom.
He throws me down on the bed. I scoot back a little, and he crawls right over to me and grabs my legs, yanks me under him. “Where’re you going?”
I like no past or future. I like no roles. He goes to work on the pearly buttons, fingers trembling. “I never feel like this,” he says, suddenly serious. “I never feel this messed up. Your skirt was an engineering problem I should’ve understood, but I felt like…a bear. My hands like a bear.”
“I liked it.”
“I’m serious. You’re all I could think about, all these weeks.”
“Me, too,” I say. “I watch you. I try not to want you,” I say.
