Page 37 of The Masks We Burn
A wing catches my eyes, and I lower to finally get a look at it. It’s a lone butterfly, outlined in black with a splash of green watercolor underneath. I kiss it twice before dipping down, loving the way she shivers against me.
Her arousal is heavy, the scent filling my nose, driving my dick to a painful length, but I only inhale deeper, committing it to memory. There’s no telling if this is the only time I’ll ever get this moment with her, and I damn sure refuse to forget any second of it.
Everything about her is so goddamn addicting.
That admission makes the voice in the back of my head grow louder. It’s warning me that this will only worsen my need for her. That this will open a floodgate I won’t be able to close. I manage to force it down as I let the flat of my tongue glide through her slit, the taste drowning everything else out.
She arches her back, a sharp cry of pleasure permeating the air at the sudden invasion. It’s a new sound I haven’t heard from her, and I need to hear it again.
With another long, languid lick, I can’t help but let my tongue curl inside her pussy as it passes. It sends shivers down my spine, the desire to take her so fucking strong, I have to press myself into the couch to ground myself to something.
That same euphoric feeling of being alive begins to bloom in my sternum. It started as a smolder the moment I walked through the door. Her face and spicy words were the match. Now as she squirms beneath me, a steady fire has erupted, desire burning through my veins.
Part of me wants to take my time and worship every curve and dip. But the other part wants her dripping, panting, and begging.
I choose the latter.
Hiking up her knees, I interchange between little nips and sucks, exploring the things that make her toes curl on my shoulders. I discover quickly she likes soft bites.
Moans flow freely from her mouth as I pick up pace, and the sound is so sweet I almost don’t want to stop them. But my instructions were to not make a sound, and I’m tired of our tug-of-war for dominance. Here, in this space, she’s about to learn how to listen.
My mouth stops its work, while my left hand slides up her soft skin and over the black lace of her bra, a finger finding her lips in a “hush” sign.
She grunts in frustration when I peer up at her. “Are you serious?”
I don’t answer, only blinking slowly as though I’m bored and prepare to wait as long as it takes.
Amora sucks her teeth before rolling her eyes, defeat flashing over her fire. “Fine.”
When I think she’s going to behave, she does the exact opposite and clutches my wrist with both her hands, pulling my finger inside her warm mouth. Her tongue swirls around my finger as she sucks the digit, and I can’t hold back the groan that rumbles from the deepest part of my chest.
“Fuck,” I growl under my breath, my veins now on fire when she finally releases me.
But her smirk of defiance only lasts a moment before I glide the same soaked finger down and into her pussy. When she arches again, I add another, curling them in the shallow parts as I find that magic little spot that will give her a stronger orgasm.
Amora uses a pillow to cover her face, but it does shit to hide her muffled moans. The sounds of her climbing have my dick straining against the couch now, and when I readjust, the coolness from the precum sends chills up my spine.
I know if I don’t speed things up, I won’t be able to hold back and may end up doing so much more than just feasting on her.
As if on cue, her walls begin to flutter, her legs shaking around my head as she nears the edge.
I pick up pace, curling my fingers faster, flicking my tongue to match the tempo, and let my pinky join the fun by pressing against her tight ring of muscle.
That’s all she needed.
In my next breath, the pillow is across the room, and her hands are clenched in my hair. Screams way louder than I expected erupt in the room, and her legs latch around my head, locking me in place. Not that I plan on going anywhere until every drop of her is mine. I lap at her orgasm, sucking her lips into my mouth until she shudders from the oversensitive bundle.
After a few minutes, she finally begins to come down, her pants turning into jagged breaths. When I pull from between her legs, her body sags into the couch, her knees clamping together and lifting as she shifts to her side. “Holy shit, Will.”
“Yes, ma’am?” I ask, taking my time with licking each finger clean. It will be a long time before I forget how perfect she tastes.
Amora blows out a breath. Her flushed face turned to watch as I finish sucking my fingers spotless. “That was…”
She trails off and I hook a knuckle under her chin, forcing her eyes on me. “Use your words, sweetheart.”
Her bright blues appear timid for a moment, flashing back and forth between mine. It takes a moment before I realize why she’s clamming up, and I instantly become irritated with myself.
Things are different now. Completely different. And I need her to know the boy she knew in high school isn’t the same. He’s grown up and learned what an asshole he was back then. I want her to understand she can communicate honestly with me, even if it’s not something she’s comfortable or well-versed in. I want her to… trust me.
