His lips twitched with a smile. “Teach me what you like.” He urged as he sat up and rubbed my thigh. “I want to please you.”
I shuddered, my legs clenching as he said the words in his low, husky voice. I cleared my throat and closed my eyes. “Put your hips between my legs,” I said, my voice cracked.
Cormac sat back on his knees, and I allowed my legs to fall between his body. He climbed up my body again, hesitant to lay his weight on my stomach. I reached up and pulled his face toward mine again. My knees bent, I caged his hips and pressed him toward me. My core was damp, and the fabric of my leggings clung to me—and I felt every inch of him as he pressed against me.
Our lips met again, and his hips rocked without meaning to, small, hesitant movements that brushed my core and stoked my lust.
“You need to touch me,” I whispered, eyes closed, as I spoke against his lips.
He smiled against my mouth, reaching up and brushing his fingers against the side of my breast. “Like this?”
I shook my head, eyes still closed. “Between my legs.”
Cormac’s hum rumbled through my body as he slid his hand down my body once more. He rested his callused fingers where they had stopped before, and waited, sat back on his haunches for direction.
Cormac Illfinn. The King of Tarsainn. A Mer with more pride than sense. Who would never be kind if there was an insult to be had. A male with all the bravado and bluster that came with the title—waited for instruction. His eyes were dark with lust, and his desire to please me so fervent that it vibrated through every inch of his golden, muscular body.
My chest was too full. Lust or love, I couldn’t tell. It took every inch of my willpower not to pull him toward me and fuck him right then.
I reached down, hooking my thumbs in the waistband of my leggings. Cormac saw my actions and took over, throwing the leggings into the sand.
Legs spread, with Cormac between them. I felt exposed. I waited for some joke. Perhaps a proclamation of disgust—he was a Mer after all, with little experience of two-legged fae.
Instead, Cormac reached out, pressing a single finger to my opening.
I whimpered.
“Inside, like this?” He leaned down between my legs.
I bit my lip. “There is a bump at the top of the opening—”
“Like this?”
I yelped. “Circle it, gently.”
He did as I bade.
“So obedient.” I cooed, breathless.
Cormac took his other hand and pressed his thumb to my opening, as his other finger made delicate circles around my clitoris. I felt his breath against my wet core, so close, as he watched his fingers fucking me.
My hips rocked with every tentative thrust of his thumb inside of my pussy.
My hips met every movement of his hand, as if it were his cock inside of me.
I grabbed at the sand. Back arched, as I pushed my hips to meet his hand with urgency.
My orgasm hovered on the edge of my periphery. The slow exploration of my core kept me from tumbling into the abyss, but I was moments away from clawing my skin off.
Cormac exhaled against my clitoris, and he pressed a kiss to my core, replacing his finger with his mouth. His tongue was flat, wider than his finger, but more dexterous, as it rolled over the bundle of nerves.
He added another finger, and then another. Stretched, as he slathered my pussy with his tongue and licked my juices as if they were nectar.
I looked down at the golden head between my legs, moaning against my taste—and I came. I grabbed his head, pressing his face to my core, without care for his need to breathe, as my orgasm washed over me. My toes curled and my body went stiff as I writhed. His fingers, all four of them, pressed inside of me to the hilt as I spasmed around his hand. His tongue still circling the nub until it became too much as I squirmed away from him before collapsing in the same position. My hair plastered to my face in sweat.
“Did I do well?” He beamed; my juices still wet on his lips.
My only response was a garbled ‘yes’.
