Consent.
I nod, telling him I want this. He wastes no time propelling himself up so he can kiss me again. Is it nerves, excitement, heat, or a lack of air that causes me to swoon? That is the only word I can use to describe the way my head spins, by body tingles and everything inside me pulls toward the man I’m straddling.
He withdraws, his fingers making quick work of the solo button holding his shirt around me. As soon as it’s undone, he runs his hands up over my chest and out to my shoulders, pulling the shirt off in one steady, sweeping caress. My entire body is alert. I’ve felt nothing like this before. Electricity zaps along my skin. I’m more alive than I knew possible.
More vulnerable.
Dax leans in, nuzzling my neck. Nips, licks, suckling; he tastes me and sweeps the arms of the sports bra down each shoulder. He follows the trail with his mouth and teeth, grazing my skin softly, and yet it pulses everywhere. I’m a heaving mess, but it doesn’t seem to deter Dax.
With the straps of the top still pinning my arms to my side, his fingertip slides under the fabric, tracing around until there’s the softest brush of his skin against my nipple. The stony hard nub stiffens impossibly more until it’s swollen and pained. I watch Dax. His eyes are glued to my breasts. My back arches instinctively in offering; a physical,yearninginvitation for him to touch, squeeze, suck, pinch…anything. My anticipation is agonizing pinpricks of need.
He slides the fabric down. The cool air in the room merely heightens the sensation consuming my body. Then, he latches his lips to my breast and holds my nipple prisoner between his tongueand teeth. I hear myself cry out. I ought to be embarrassed, but Dax only grips my waist and pulls me down once more, shoving me against his hard length and reminding me he’s only just beginning to make me feel good.
But this isn’t all about me either.
The edge of his teeth teases me as he holds, sucks, flicks, and pulls gently before releasing me to do it all over again with the other breast.
He yanks the top down, finally releasing my arms, and then tugs the sports bra off and over my head. I don’t even realise I’m helping until I’m dropping my arms back to my sides. The freedom to move is the freedom to explore the glorious man beneath me.
Our kisses are quick and deep. Long tongue sweeps. Dominant licks and tangles of heat. Sultry pants and groans give way to lewd, wet sounds, heaving breaths, growls, and thick grunts.
I grind my core against him. I enjoy the contrast between the fervent strokes of my covered pussy against his smart-suited bulge and the moments where we lift away, barely touching, where the air between us is nothing more than a tease.
And then the clothing is too damn much. Too much of a barrier, too heavy, too hot. I fumble with his belt, but he grabs my hands and lifts them to his mouth. Kissing my palms, he finally smiles.
“Let me repay my debt first, little gem,” he whispers against my wrists.
I let go of the bite of rejection that stings when he stops me. He saidfirst. Meaning there would be plenty of opportunities after. I’m fine with that.
Dax leans back until he’s flat against the mattress. His gaze flickers over my body, and I try hard not to move to cover myself up. I can feign confidence for a bit, though why I feel so vulnerableafterhaving him feast upon my skin is strange.
“You’re beautiful,” he tells me, as though seeing my struggle.
“And you’re sweet.”
“You think I’m just telling you what I think you want to hear?”
“I think you’re a good man. You are boosting my confidence.”
“I’m also telling the truth. You are beautiful. Inside and out, but I’m going to stop talking because I have a habit of saying the wrong thing and getting into trouble.” He smiles softly when I chuckle. “Now scoot up.”
Scoot…?“What?” Dax grabs my thighs gently and hauls me up the bed until I’m hovering over his head. “Oh…oh, fuck…I…”
“Are you very attached to these?” He plucks at the leggings, pinging them against my butt cheeks. When I don’t immediately answer—too busy trying to figure out what the hell he means—he mumbles, “Ah, fuck it, I’ll buy you new ones,” and grabs the loose fabric on either side of my arse and just yanks. A rending sound fills the air, but before I can even comprehend what is happening, Dax’s tongue is sliding along my channel and heading for my clit.
I spring upward, but Dax’s hands grip my waist, and he pulls me back down until I’m almost sitting on his face. He releases a pleasured groan at the same moment I yip as he sucks in my clit and releases it again and again between licking swirls, flicks, and sounds of feasting that almost send me over the edge all on their own. The sensations build, despite there being no defined pattern to his tongue working me. In fact, the unpredictability has me riding the edge of orgasm for so long I fear I’ll never quite reach the peace of release. There is only a constant unending build-up, making me both fear and desperately need the inevitable fall.
Toppling onto my arms, I press my face into his duvet, panting loud and hard. There’s a squeal building in the back of my throat that I can’t hold back. He sucks firmly. I buck upwards to escape his mouth, but he chases me, shoulders rising off the bed. My legs quake, ready to collapse. My squeal is a high-pitched keening that I scream into the bed to hide the noise. Then, he spears his tongue into my cunt and I come undone.
I roll to escape his mouth, but he rolls with me, holding my throbbing and twitching torso steady and pressing sweet little kisses and long languid licks across my too-sensitive flesh.
“Debt paid,” I whisper when I finally find my voice. Dax’s answering laughter makes me smile. He continues running fingertip caresses from my ribs down over my mound and across my still quivering core. His head rests on my hip; his body is between my legs.
The glow and sense of rightness that linger from my orgasm fade just enough for the nerves to ratchet up again. “Are you coming up here to join me?”
“I’m getting acquainted with you as we speak,” he chuckles, kissing just above the little strip of hair I keep for fear of looking like a sphinx kitty if I don’t.
“Should I be jealous?”
