Page 59 of Feed Your Fiends

“I take that as a no. So if you want it gone, I insist on doing it.” He slips from behind me, settling on his knees in front of me. But before he can pull my ankles apart, he looks at my feet, at the dozens of razor-thin scars still halfway healing. Then he’s bending over them, kissing them. Every single one. When he raises his head, his eyes are shiny with unshed…tears?!They sparkle like polished onyx as he massages and stretches them gently, pressing on each stress relief point I’d learned through the physiotherapist’s instructions. Had he learned the instructions, too? His movements are too meticulous not to be rehearsed. Had he practised on me? In my stupor, when I felt tugs at my feet, was that the therapist? Or him?

But then his fingers wrap around my ankles, and he’s prying them apart and sliding me forward until I’m open and just a few centimetres shy from his lips and nose that tickle me with shallow breaths. His elbows dig into my thighs, pinning them flat like he always did in stretch class.

“Don’t move …Simon says,don’t move.”

Each swipe of the razor sends a tingle racing through me as I watch his head between my thighs. As he fingers my clit, moving it left and right to get the closest shave. His slippery thumb slides along my opening, carefully pulling the skin taut. When the tip slips in a fraction, I jump, and he swats me with the flat of the blade, the wet slap sending a shock of terror and boiling heat through me.

“I told you not to move.”

I bite my lip to keep from cursing him and showing him that he has any effect on me. But it’s nearly impossible to remain composed when the blade slides down my right ass cheek, then the left in one precise stroke. Even as he grabs the shower head to rinse the blade he never loses focus on my slit.

I touch his handiwork.Damn,it’s smoother than I ever got it. I can only imagine this must be what a wax feels like.

“It’s so soft,” I say in awe, and before I can stroke myself again, he’s peeling my fingers away and squeezing them in warning.

“What—”

“Simon didn’t say.”

“Gant—”

“You’re right, I hate other men and their names.Gantdidn’t say.”

I gape at him incredulously. “I can touch myself if I want—”

Warm water blasts me as he grabs the shower head again, his elbows digging deeper into my thighs to keep them flat. My stomach tightens, my back arching.

“If I’m hands-free, you have to be hands-free too. It’s only fair.”

What the hell does that even mean?

I can’t string the words together to ask as I try to wrench my fingers from his grip, but it’s relentless. My other hand is useless, the energy draining from the limb as it all shoots to my pussy. It’s too much this time, too overstimulating, as I tremble.

“Stop it,” I hiss, but I don’t want him to stop or show me mercy.

“That's not how the game works.Gantdidn’t say.”

“I’m not playing!”Liar!A moan escapes my lips, and his eyes darken. If I could see his pupils, they’d be pinpricks zoning in on me.

“Of course you are. You set the rules, and I’m following them. I’m not touching you, penetrating you,” he says pointedly at the stream.

“Gant—” I don’t know why I say his name or why I reach for his neck and force his head lower until I can kiss him. The warm wetness of his mouth makes me that much wetter as I suck on his tongue until I can’t because my moans won’t allow it.

He pulls back, sticks out his long tongue, and lets a slick drop roll onto mine, and I swallow it ravenously.

“Such a pretty baby, drinking from me.” He slaps my ass, and the jiggle sends my clit out of the stream's blast for a millisecond before it’s pummelled again. “Open. Drink more.”

I’m going to explode as I give him my tongue again, and the second I swallow a second time, I know I can’t hold it.

“Gant,” I pant. “I can’t.”

He watches me mercilessly for another beat until, finally, he smiles cruelly. “Gant sayscum.”

He releases my fingers, pulls back my hood and blasts the stream straight onto my clit and that’s when I lose control. My hands desperately slip and slide across the wet glass walls as my knees hit the tile, shudders wracking me uncontrollably. Still, he doesn’t let up. He devours my lips and swallows my moans.

“If I can’t sink into you, melt into you,” he says between kisses. “Not even my fingers, or my tongue, then just let me smell and taste my pretty pussy. Just a few licks.”

Just a few licks.

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