“I don’t know how to do this,” she whispers, voice cracking.
“You don’t have to,” I reply. “You just have to be here. With me.”
“You’re pierced,” she acknowledges, catching another glance at my cock. Her blush deepens if it’s possible.
“And you’re going to love it.”
I lead her out of the shower, grabbing two towels from the rack. I wrap one around my waist, then gently towel-dry her hair, my fingers massaging her scalp like I’m trying to soothe something deep inside her. She closes her eyes, leaning into my touch, and I can feel the tension slowly starting to leave her body.
I take her hand and pull her to the bedroom, the dim light from the streetlamp outside casting long shadows across the room. The bed is unmade, a chaotic tangle of sheets and blankets that looks like it’s been slept in by someone who doesn’t believe in order. A perfect match for the chaos that’s been swirling between us since the moment we first collided.
I gently push her down onto the bed, and she falls back with a soft gasp, her hair spreading out like a halo around her head. I hover over her, and I can feel the electricity crackling between us, a palpable force that’s both terrifying and exhilarating.
I lower my head, not to her mouth, but to her ear. “You don’t have to do anything,” I whisper. “Just feel. Just let me show you what it’s like to be cherished. To be wanted. To be worshipped.”
Her body trembles beneath me, a silent testament to the war raging within her. The part that wants to run, to hide, to retreat into the safety of her rules and routines. And the part that’s tired of hiding.
I kiss her then, a slow, deliberate exploration that’s less about passion and more about possession. I’m not just tasting her; I’m claiming her. I’m mapping thecontours of her mouth, memorizing the shape of her lips, learning the rhythm of her breath. She responds tentatively at first, then with a growing urgency that mirrors my own; her hands come up to tangle in my hair, her body arching into mine like a flower turning toward the sun.
I move down her body, my mouth a trail of fire that leaves a path of quivering flesh in its wake. I linger on the sensitive skin of her neck, the delicate curve of her collarbone, the soft swell of her breasts. I take my time, savoring every gasp, every shudder, every whispered sigh that escapes her lips.
When I reach the apex of her thighs, I can feel the heat radiating from her, a primal pulse that calls to something deep inside me. I look up at her, her eyes wide and luminous in the dim light, her chest heaving with anticipation.
“Are you ready for this, sunflower?” I ask, my voice a low, gravelly whisper. “Are you ready to let me in?”
She doesn’t speak. Just nods, a small, almost imperceptible movement that’s both an invitation and a surrender.
I lower my head, my breath hot against her clit. I can feel her trembling, a mixture of fear and desire, a storm of emotions. I want to ease her into this, to show her that pleasure doesn’t have to be pain, that giving herself doesn’t have to mean losing herself.
My tongue darts out, a tentative flick that’s both a question and an answer. She gasps, her hips bucking involuntarily, her hands flying to my head, her fingerstangling in my hair. I smile against her, a slow, predatory grin that’s all about the power I hold, the control I wield.
I take my time, teasing her, testing her, learning what makes her gasp, what makes her moan, what makes her cry out my name in a voice that’s raw with need. I can feel her tension building, a coiling spring of sensation that’s wound tighter and tighter, a pressure that’s both exquisite and unbearable.
“Kane,” she whispers, her voice a strangled plea. “Please.”
I look up at her, my face glistening with her arousal, my eyes dark with an all-consuming hunger. “Please, what, sunflower?”
She hesitates, her cheeks flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and desire. “Please… don’t stop.”
I chuckle, a low, rumbling sound that vibrates through her entire body. “Oh, I have no intention of stopping. Not until you’re screaming my name. Not until you’re so completely and utterly mine that you forget you were anyone else.”
I lower my head again, my mouth a weapon of mass seduction, and I attack her with a renewed fervor. I’m not just tasting her now; I’m devouring her. I’m claiming every inch of her, every drop of her, until she’s a quivering, sobbing mess of pure, unadulterated ecstasy.
Her hips buck wildly, her body arching off the bed, her hands gripping my hair so tightly it almost hurts. I can feel her muscles tensing, her breath catching in her throat, her whole being poised on the brink of oblivion.
And then she shatters.
Her cry echoes through the room, a raw, primal sound of release that’s beautiful. She convulses around me, her body wracked by wave after wave of pleasure so intense it borders on pain. I don’t stop. I can’t. I’m relentless. I’m determined. I’m going to wring every last drop of ecstasy from her body until there’s nothing left but me. Until there’s nothing left but us.
When she finally collapses, boneless and spent, I slowly make my way back up her body, my mouth a trail of tender kisses that speak of reverence and adoration. I can feel the tremors still racking her body, aftershocks of the storm I just unleashed.
I look down at her, her face flushed, her eyes closed, her lips parted in a silent sigh of contentment. She looks utterly, completely wrecked. And she’s never looked more beautiful.
“Kane,” she whispers, her voice a hoarse, breathy sound that’s barely audible. “I never knew… I never imagined…”
I smile, a slow, triumphant grin. “This is just the beginning, sunflower.”
Her eyes flutter open, and for a moment, I see something flicker in their depths.Fear? Doubt? Regret?But it’s gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a soft, luminous trust that makes my chest ache.
