well. I like this. I like that it’s the morning after, and all formalities and awkwardness have dissolved, and we seem to know each other on another level.
Or maybe there are many levels yet to be discovered.
Maybe each level is right in our hands.
I nip at her skin, feeling her squirm beneath me, hearing her gasp and moan.
“You know I’ll be dreaming of those sounds for years to come,” I tell her, running my tongue up the side of her neck. “You’ve got the mouth of every wet, hot fantasy, unleashed.”
“You flatter me,” she says, acting every bit the minx.
“Just you wait,” I warn her.
Last night was not enough.
I don’t think it will ever be enough.
I straddle her, my thighs on either side of her hips, and reach down to ever so slowly leave soft kisses behind. She tastes sweeter than champagne, and I run my tongue over her skin, feeling it perk up under my touch.
I move back a few inches so I can kiss and lick all the way to her stomach, and her nipples harden, exposed to my hungry eyes. I immediately dip my head and lick them gently until she groans, arching her back. She is so perfect—the feel of her, the shape, the way her body responds to my every move.
Why can’t I have this for more than a few days?
I clench my eyes shut and will it away. I can’t think like this, not now. We just got together; it’s too soon to think about how it could end.
Sadie runs her fingers through my hair teasingly, and I momentarily close my eyes at her touch, loving the way this feels.
The tenderness.
When was the last time I felt tenderness?
Such an underrated thing, such an important part of life.
And with a tenderness that I know will grow to fire and flames, I kiss her breasts from the soft outer swell to the nipple and back again, my tongue flicking them like I’m trying to lap up the rest of the richest cream.
But soon that tenderness from earlier starts to grow rough and impatient. Her nails are digging into my scalp, and she’s getting restless, and I know she wants nothing more than my tongue or my cock between her legs, to have me inside her, bringing her relief.
She has to learn patience first.
I continue to work at her breasts, licking a warm path up the swollen corners toward the middle. I gently nip at her, bringing sharp bursts of pain with the soothing stroke of my tongue, alternating the two until she begins squirming beneath me, her face contorted with that anguished need for more.
“Olivier,” Sadie groans softly, her fingers grasping my hair tighter and tighter, “come inside me. S’il vous plaît.”
I grin. I appreciate her attempt at French, but I’m in no hurry this morning.
“Relax, mon lapin,” I tell her, my voice thick. “I will make it worth your while.”
She sighs with a mix of pleasure and frustration and sinks farther back into the bed. I take my mouth and place it flush over the hard peaks of her nipples, sucking them gently and working them with my tongue. I lap and flick, my attention completely on her, trying to make her eyes roll back, her thighs shudder.
“Olivier, please,” she gasps, licking her lips.
But I persist. Her breathing deepens, then sharpens, hot and heavy pants that inflame my own desire. I give and give until she’s writhing beneath me and yanking my hair with all her strength. I squeeze her breasts, bite her nipples, and it’s almost enough to make her come.
I quickly slip my hand between her legs, swiping along her slick clit. That one touch is enough to cause her to let go. Her body starts to quake uncontrollably, and breathless words come from her open, yearning mouth, wild and animalistic.
Such a perfect mouth.
Then her tremors slow, and her body relaxes into the mattress.
“Oh my God,” she says, her head rolling back and forth, her wide eyes staring at the ceiling.
“Mon Dieu,” I tell her, grinning, “if you’re still trying to learn the language.”
“Well, whatever you just did to me transcends any language, I’ll tell you that much,” she manages to say. “You have magic fingers, you know that? No, wait, you probably do.”
“You’re the one that’s magic,” I tell her as she reaches up and runs her fingers over my muscles. There’s a hunger still in her eyes, like that was only the beginning, and she’s just getting started.