Her jaw clenched, a muscle ticking beneath the smooth skin. “I want you to touch me.”
“I am touching you.” My fingers skimmed her inner thigh, deliberately missing where she needed me most.
She made a sound of frustration, hips lifting involuntarily. “You know what I mean.”
“Say it.” I nipped at the underside of her breast. “Or we stop right now.”
Livia closed her eyes, a flush spreading across her cheeks. When she spoke, her voice was low, almost a growl. “I want your fingers inside me. Your mouth on me. I want you to make me come.”
The raw honesty of her words sent heat coursing through me. “Good girl,” I murmured. I claimed her mouth again, more deliberately this time, drinking in her surrender like the finest wine. My hand resumed its downward path, sliding beneath her subligaculum to find her hot and slick.
“Already so wet for me,” I murmured against her lips, circling her entrance with my fingertips. “Was it the fighting that did this to you? Or have you been wanting this as long as I have?”
She bit my lower lip in response, hard enough to sting. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
I slid one finger inside her, feeling her clench around me. “No? Then why are you dripping for me, Livia?” I added a second finger, curling them to find the spot that made her gasp. “Why does your body welcome me so eagerly?”
Her eyes fluttered closed as I worked my fingers deeper, her hips rising to meet my touch. “Physical... reaction,” she managed, but the breathlessness in her voice betrayed her.
“Is that what we’re calling it?” I twisted my wrist, changing the angle of my thrust, and was rewarded with a sharp gasp. “Open your eyes. Look at me when I’m inside you.”
She obeyed, her gaze locking with mine, pupils blown wide with desire. The vulnerability there, mixed with defiance, nearly undid me.
“I hate you,” she whispered, but her body contradicted her words, her inner muscles clenching greedily around my fingers.
“No, you don’t.” I lowered my head to trace my tongue along the shell of her ear. “You hate that you want me. You hate that I know exactly how to touch you.” I curled my fingers again, pressing against that sensitive spot inside her. “You hate that I can make you come apart.”
Her nails dug into my shoulders, hard enough to leave marks. “Shut up and do it then.”
I laughed against her neck. “So demanding.” I withdrew my fingers, ignoring her sound of protest, and moved down her body. “But I think I’ll take my time.”
I peeled the subligaculum down her legs, tossing it aside. She lay completely bare before me now, her skin flushed with desire, her thighs already parting in anticipation. I settled between her legs, lifting her thighs to rest on my shoulders. The scent of her arousal made my mouth water. I pressed my lips to her inner thigh, enjoying the way she tensed in anticipation. But instead of giving her what she wanted, I traced a path with my tongue along the crease where thigh met hip, deliberately avoiding her centre.
“Septimus,” she warned, voice tight with frustration.
“Patience,” I murmured against her skin. “You’ve waited years for this. What’s a few more minutes?”
“I will kill you,” she threatened, but the effect was ruined by the breathless quality of her voice.
“Not before I make you scream.” I moved to her other thigh, biting down gently on the sensitive flesh, leaving a mark that would remind her tomorrow who had been between her legs tonight.
“Gods,” she gasped, her hands fisting in my hair.
“Still hate me?”
“Yess…” she hissed.
“Good.” I smiled against her skin, feeling her thighs tremble beneath my hands. “Hate me all you want, as long as you come for me.”
Without further warning, I dragged my tongue through her folds, finally tasting what I’d hungered for. She bucked against my mouth, a strangled cry escaping her lips. I gripped her hips firmly, holding her in place as I explored her with deliberate strokes — circling her clit, dipping inside her, learning what made her breath catch and her muscles tense.
“Fuck,” she gasped, her fingers tightening in my hair. “Septimus—”
I lowered my head again, this time focusing my attention precisely where she needed it most. Her back arched off the bed when my tongue found her clit, circling the sensitive bud before sucking gently. The sound she made — half gasp, half moan — sent a surge of satisfaction through me. I slid two fingers inside her again, curling them in rhythm with the movements of my tongue.
“Oh gods,” she breathed, her thighs trembling against my shoulders. “Just like that.”
I could feel her tightening around my fingers, her body climbing toward release. Her breathing quickened, shallow and desperate. I increased my pace, driving her higher, wanting to watch her shatter beneath my touch.
