My Cone and Only (King Family #1) - Susannah Nix Page 0,54
my thighs, and my stomach tightened in nervous anticipation as he yanked me to the edge of the mattress. Gazing at me with the look of a hungry animal, he licked his lips and slowly ran his hands up the inside of my thighs. I tried to hold still as he leaned in, consuming me with his eyes as his fingers inched higher. Slowly spreading me wider. Tearing down the last shreds of my defenses.
“Wyatt.” My hands twisted in the quilt as his name shuddered out of me. I’d never been shy about sex or my body, but I wasn’t good at letting myself be vulnerable, and there was nothing more vulnerable than my current position. Helpless and gasping, exposed to him completely. Trembling with need.
His gaze met mine, and the strong, familiar connection between us melted away my apprehension. He lifted my legs over his shoulders, and our eyes stayed locked as he slid his fingers through my slick, swollen folds.
My back arched off the bed, but he pinned me in place with a hand on my hip. When he brushed a fingertip against my aching clit, my whole body convulsed. He did it again, his touch cruelly light, and I writhed in sweet misery.
“God, Wyatt, will you just…” I trailed off into a keening moan as he circled my clit, giving me the pressure I craved.
“Does it feel good?” His eyes found mine again. “Do you like it when I touch you?”
“Yes,” I gasped, desperate for more pressure, more friction, more of his touch.
“Do you want to feel me inside you?”
“Oh god.” I’d never wanted anything more, and I strained against the hand holding me down. “I need it. Please.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you beg before. I fucking love seeing you like this.”
The way he said it, his voice rough and unexpectedly tender, set off a whirlwind of flutters in my chest, but then he slipped a finger inside me, and my head slammed back against the mattress. “God, yes. Just like that. Don’t you dare stop.”
“I’m not going to stop,” he murmured, rubbing his thumb over my clit as his fingers stroked me inside and out. “I love how wet you are for me. So gorgeous.”
My whole body pulsed with white-hot pleasure. I was out of my mind, aching for release as he stroked me faster and harder, the friction almost more than I could stand.
“I love watching you fall apart on my fingers.” His voice was breathy and eager. “I want to feel you come on them.”
I whimpered as the tension coiled inside me, brutally close to the breaking point. Needing more but too far gone to speak.
“I love the feel of your beautiful pussy.” When he spoke, I felt his breath between my legs, hot and teasing. “I can’t wait to taste it.”
Stars exploded across my vision as Wyatt’s tongue stroked through my throbbing folds. The second his stubble scraped over my clit, the dam shattered and swept me away. My back bowed and I cried out as ecstasy pulsed through me in waves, turning my insides to quivering jelly while my walls contracted around Wyatt’s fingers.
“One,” he said, grinning as he stroked me through the aftershocks, relentlessly drawing out every last ripple of pleasure.
“Shit,” I mumbled when my lungs remembered how to work again.
Honest to god, what kind of witchcraft? The man had me coming after one little stroke of his tongue. He’d barely even had to work for it.
His fingers slipped out of me, but his hand clenched hard on my hip when I tried to sit up. “I’m not done,” he said and pushed his face between my thighs.
My hips jerked, everything still raw and throbbing in the aftermath of my orgasm. “Wyatt,” I groaned as he licked my oversensitive clit.
He pressed harder with his tongue, mercilessly circling the tender knot of nerves. My core was still pulsating, my skin still tingling, and my awareness so heightened that I recognized the edge of another orgasm building almost immediately.
Fresh tendrils of tension wrapped around my spine as he spread me wide with his face, his tongue caressing me and his stubble burning in the perfect combination of pleasure and pain.
His eyes met mine, watching my reactions as he ate me out, experimenting with different angles and pressures. Quick and rough. Slow and decadent. Learning my body and what drove me to twist my hands in his hair and grind my hips against his face. What turned my whimpers into mindless cries.