dipped his head and kissed her inner thigh. New sensations here…even silkier, even warmer, with scents more delicious than Christmas. She was turned on and wet and he could smell it, almost taste it. And almost wasn’t enough.
Cyrus turned his head and licked her. A little quick flick of the tongue, but it was enough to get a gasp out of Paulina.
She laughed at her own gasp. “Sorry,” she said, breathless.
“Don’t be sorry for anything,” he said. “Not a thing, ever.”
He really didn’t know what he was talking about because he was out of his mind, more or less. Impossible to think straight lying between the two most beautiful thighs in all God’s creation. He took those thighs in his hands and pushed them wide enough he could get down to work. Up on his elbows, he stroked the soft folds of her vagina again, opening her up like he’d dreamed about doing every day since the day she first let him kiss her.
Cyrus’s self-control was starting to crack. He didn’t want to go all in while Paulina was shaking like a leaf, but there was a good chance she was shaking from need, not fear. She had plenty of practice telling him to stop or slow down, but now she was saying nothing, only breathing short hard breaths. He told himself the second she said “back off,” he would back off…but since she wasn’t saying anything, he went in.
Gently as he could, he pushed back the tender flesh around her clitoris. There it was, like he’d dreamed of it, swollen and red. He pressed his tongue to it lightly, but it might as well have been lightning that struck it, judging how Paulina flinched.
“Sorry,” she said again and clutched at the sheet by her hip.
Cyrus only laughed and licked her again. She flinched, but not so hard this time. And when he licked her a third time, she didn’t flinch at all. She tasted perfect, tasted like a woman should, and her clitoris felt as right as anything ever did against his tongue. He went at it with the tip, carefully as he could, and it wasn’t long before it started to have the desired effect on Paulina.
As much as he wanted to watch her enjoying it, Cyrus forced himself to concentrate. Her pleasure mattered more than his. He’d have plenty of chances on their honeymoon to watch her come over and over again. Now he just needed to get her there and get her there hard.
He swirled his tongue all around her sensitive flesh and was rewarded with all sorts of dirty wicked sounds that came out of Paulina’s lips. Little moans, little groans, tiny little gasps and grunts as he licked and sucked her, dropping his head every now and then to stroke the open folds of her with this tongue before focusing on her clitoris again.
All nervousness, his and hers, evaporated in that room. Cyrus knew he was going to get her there, and from the sound of it, get her there fast. If she had as much adrenaline pumping through her body as he had in his right now, she was going to come so hard he’d have to scrape her off the ceiling after. He’d never waited this long to be intimate with a woman before. The closest thing he’d ever felt was his very first time at age fifteen. But even that couldn’t compare to this. There’d been no sweetness then, no affection, just anticipation, the frenzy, the climax, and the emptiness afterward of having won a game but no trophy.
But this was good and it was right. Anything that made Paulina feel loved and wanted and worshipped had to be right.
“Cyrus,” she said. Just that. Just his name. She wasn’t asking for anything. He doubted she even realized she’d said it. He’d never heard anything sweeter than his name on her lips while his lips were on her body.
She was so close. He knew it. He could feel it, feel the tension in her building to the breaking point. Nothing for him to do now but not stop, not break the rhythm. He ran his tongue over and over her clitoris again and again, kneading and teasing it, stroking and lapping it. Paulina was completely lost. She rocked her hips on the bed and dug her heels into the sheets, his back, and then back on the sheets. He dared to glance up once and saw her head back and her long