Page 31 of The Watcher's Bride

I take my time, wanting to savor the moment, enjoying her eager panting as she awaits what’s to come. Finally, I let myself taste her, languidly trailing my tongue along her slit to her clit. She tastes even better than she smells.

“Oh my god,” she gasps as I slowly begin to circle her clit with my tongue, alternating between short and long strokes.

She squirms and writhes at the new sensation, and I have the satisfaction of knowing I’m the first to pleasure her this way. There won’t be a second man.

She’s all mine.

I increase my pace, licking and sucking her clit as she moans and cries out, far louder than she ever has under her own touch. I tease her slit with my finger, marveling at how wet and eager for me she is before slipping it inside.

“Holy shit,” she groans.

I could do this all day. I can already feel her pussy tightening as she nears her climax, so unaccustomed to the pleasure I can bring her that she’s ready to explode so soon. But I don’t stop when I feel her shuddering and climaxing in my mouth, her juices running down my fingers. I keep going, wanting to show her just how amazing sex can be with me.

“Fuck!” she screams as she comes again and again.

I let her buck and writhe under me, not wanting to taint the moment by restricting or touching her in any other way but for pleasure. There will be time for that to come.

When the final, most powerful orgasm hits her like a tidal wave, only then do I slow my tongue and stop thrusting my fingers into her soaking wet pussy. I gently withdraw them, licking them clean and tasting her. Nora gasps at what I’m doing, but she’s so spent, so utterly satisfied, that she doesn’t have the energy to overthink. Not wanting anything to spoil her high, I slip away into the night.

I’m confident now that Nora is as addicted to me as I am to her.

Chapter 18

Nora

It’s official. I’m certifiably insane. They might as well lock me up and throw away the key. I must be, to have done what I did last night. Scrap that, what I’ve been doing this past week. Somehow, I’ve fallen into a spiral that I can’t seem to get out of. Each night I’m not only allowing him to come into my room, I’m looking forward to it. Worse still, I don’t want him to stop. But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s the first man I ever let truly touch me and I don’t even know his name or what he looks like.

But, my god, it felt incredible.

I thought I’d become pretty good at pleasuring myself, but it was nothing compared to the earth-shatteringly amazing way my body exploded under his tongue.

My thoughts are filled with my current moral and sexual dilemma, as they have been every day since I first started this dangerous entanglement, the whole walk to work. I should end things before it gets even messier. But what if he reacts badly? He isn’t dangerous now, but is that only because I’m doing what he wants?

Should I ask to see him? To know his name? What if I don’t like what I see? Am I so shallow that I wouldn’t be interested if he was old, unattractive, or scarred? I can’t help but wonder why he’s hiding from me.

I’m so lost in my head that I don’t notice our new student volunteer, Tammy, come up to me. Tammy’s a nice girl, but she tends to talk incessantly, something that most days annoys me as it means she spends more time talking than working and I can barely get any peace. Today, I’m grateful to see her—she can distract me from my internal conflict.

“Hey, Tammy, what’s up?” I say breezily.

“Nora! Oh my gosh, we weren’t sure if you were going to make it in today, are you okay?” she says her face full of concern.

“Why?” I ask, brow furrowed as I wonder what would have given her that idea.

Her hand flies to her mouth and her eyes widen in shock before crumpling into sad sympathy. “Oh, you don’t know. You haven’t heard?”

“Haven’t heard what?” I reply a little exasperatedly.

“I thought you’d have seen it on the TV, Mike is dead. It’s all over the news.”

I blank for a moment, processing the information. “Dead? What? How?” I ask in disbelief.

“The police found his body this morning. He was murdered,” Tammy says.

I can tell she’s thriving on the drama. She didn’t really know Mike, so to her, this is just some juicy gossip, like watching a true crime documentary.

“Murdered? Who would want to murder Mike?” I say in disbelief. He might have turned out to be a total ass to me, but I can’t imagine anyone hating him enough to want him dead.

“The police don’t know. I assume they’ll be coming here to interview his coworkers at some point.”

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