He’s my dream catcher.
I lie there, focused on steering my thoughts away from how his hand on my pelvis is making me feel all hot and bothered when he speaks, startling me. “Your breathing changed.”
Busted.
“W-what?” I stutter, feeling caught. I thought he was asleep.
“Your breath has quickened, and your chest is rising and falling at a rapid pace, sweetheart.” He takes a pause, and I swear I can hear the beat of my heart and feel my ears burning. “You’re turned on, aren’t you?” He maneuvers me, so I can face him. When I’m fully turned in his arms, I find him with his head on his balanced palm and an intense look on his face. His free hand, the one that moments ago was dangerously close to my core, draws a circle on my upper thigh. Then, I realize that this position has my wide thighs spread even wider.
“I don’t understand what you’re talking about.” I try to deflect, feeling my cheeks redden.
“Oh, I think you do.” he grins. His fingers slide between my thighs, and with a gentle press of his palm, he spreads my thighs. I close my hand over his when his knuckle grazes my panties. And I am one hundred percent sure they’re wet and that he noticed. “Does your little pussy ache, Mila?” He noticed.
My breath hitches, and my mind goes blank the second the dirty word falls from his mouth. I’m surprised not because of the way he’s speaking to me but because I don’t mind it at all.
In fact, his dirty mouth excites me just as much as his touch on my thigh does.
Everything he does makes me feel things I’m not used to but am slowly becoming addicted to.
Knowing there’s no going back, not that I want to, I think about my options here.
I could shy away from this moment, or I can give in to my wants and needs.
And I do want him very much.
“You’re so adorable when you look like that.” He kneads the skin on my thigh, and I can barely think about anything else except how good it feels and how better it would feel if he moved his hand lower.
“Like what?” I whisper, trying to ease my breathing but failing miserably.
I feel goosebumps when Riagan trails kisses up my neck and then bites my earlobe. Oh, wow. I’ve read plenty of spicy scenes, and I am not completely oblivious to what happens between two people who desire each other. The way Riagan is touching and kissing me makes me feel like I’m more than wanted. It makes me feel as if this man is dying to get more of me. “Like you know exactly what you want, but you’re too shy to voice it.” He raises his head and looks me in the eyes before he kisses my nose quickly and then moves down my body, keeping my gaze hostage.
“Riagan, did you know that fellatio was considered a felony in almost every state in 1950?” I blurt out nervously and cringe when I realize what I just said. This is definitely a mood killer, right? No man wants to talk during sexual relations or hear weird facts. But then, as always, he reminds me that he’s unlike anyone else. My husband, the one currently looking up at me with a wide smile on his face, speaks up. “Didn’t know that baby, but that’s fucked up.”
I nod in agreement. “Not so long ago, as of 2014, twelve states– Alabama, Florida, Idaho, Kansas, Louisiana, Michigan, Mississippi, North Carolina, Oklahoma, South Carolina, Texas, and Utah– still had anti-fellatio laws on the books.” I watch every movement, not wanting to miss a thing. I try to focus solely on him and what he is doing instead of giving power to the anxiety that is creeping in, and it’s getting in the way of me expressing what I feel in this moment with him between my legs so close to a part of me no man has been this close to. A part that is burning and aching for his touch.
He presses his lips against the sheet on my thigh, and I can feel the heat of his breath when he says, “You’re so fucking pretty, butterfly. I would gladly serve a life sentence for sticking my tongue inside your little cunt.” I jump. “Y-you would?”
“Fuck yes.” He breathes out before tossing the covers aside. Then, he expertly adjusts my body until one of my legs is over his shoulder. “Did you know I’m dying to taste your pussy, Mila? I keep wondering if it’ll taste as fucking sweet as your lips?” He bends his neck and nips me through my panties.
“Riagan,” I protested. My body buckles, and he places one of his thick arms over my belly, keeping me in place.
“Shhh,” he whispers, but I can hear him chuckling. “Did you like that baby? Do you like me biting your tiny cunt? I do.” He does it again, but this time he flattens his tongue and licks me over my panties. It’s an intimate and odd sensation.
“I do.” I say truthfully. I more than like it. I want him to do it again, so I tell him exactly that.
“Good.” he grins wickedly at me, and my heart skips a beat. “Can I eat it, baby?”
“Eat wha- Oh…. you mean my vagina?”
His grin spreads to a full-blown smile now. “Pussy. Say pussy.”
Embarrassment takes over, and I swallow hard. “You want to eat my pussy?”
“Good girl.” His palms press my thighs wide apart, then a questing finger edges under the side of my panties. “And yes, I really fucking want to,” he whispers. I feel him slide my panties to the side, exposing me. “Damn, that’s pretty,” he says.
Then his mouth touches me, and I swear I see stars. I totally lose any reservations I had about him doing this. Not that I had many, but still. I don’t think about my fears, lack of experience, or my aversion to germs.
My mind goes blank, and I just let myself feel this.
