I lean in and tease her swollen clit with the side of my tusk. Gently, and remaining mindful of the pointed tip, I rub it over her, make her moan and grasp me harder before I finally get my tongue on her.
A taste isn’t enough. I need to be inside of her, to learn the shape and the feel of her, to know exactly how she likes it.
I spear my tongue into her, plunge as deep as I can, and stroke forward. Susie cries out and tugs me closer, presses that sweet pussy against me and grinds. I rumble my approval into her and she moans again, soaking my face with her arousal.
I could do this forever. The taste of Susie Grove on my tongue could sustain me for a lifetime, and I’d gladly spend the rest of my days right here, licking her, listening to all the sweet sounds she’s making and knowing I’m the one who’s bringing her pleasure.
But my little human might not have that long.
Her muscles tense, her cries grow more urgent, and her tight channel squeezes hard around my tongue. I pull back, and her hands scramble for purchase in my hair, desperate to bring me back.
“Not so fast,” I admonish, delighting in the quiver that runs through her. “You’re going to give me at least twenty minutes of this.”
She bites at her lip and gives me a shaky nod, but as soon as I lower myself back to her, I know it’s a lost cause.
And fine, we’ll get this first one over quick so she can give me a few more.
Tongue at her clit, I ease one finger inside her, then two. She’s slick and hot with her arousal, but it’s still not an easy fit. When I glance up, though, there’s not a bit of discomfort on her face. Her head’s thrown back, mouth parted on a gasp, face flushed and eyes squeezed shut as she rides my hand, chases her pleasure, tightens and tightens around me until she shatters.
I stay with her through every spasm of her climax, lick and suck at her until she slumps back against the couch cushions.
“Again, Susie,” I command, nipping her thigh with my tusks. “I’m not done yet.”
Despite her boneless pleasure, a little smile turns up the corners of her lips, and my heart might burst at the sight. Gods I love playing with her like this, love seeing her respond to this side of my nature that I didn’t even know existed, love the sweet little grumble of protest she makes even as she buries her hands in my hair and drags my face back to her pussy.
Just as she’s coming down from the tremors of her second climax, I finally relent, shifting myself back up onto the couch and pulling her over me.
Straddled over my hips again, Susie’s hands find the waistband of my jeans immediately. Making quick work of the button and zipper, she shoves them roughly down over my hips, revealing her prize.
Fuck, the sound she makes when she finally has me bare.
A strangled little gasp of surprise, of delight, accompanied by a widening of her eyes and her mouth falling open on a gasp.
She takes me in hand, and that gasp turns into a wicked smile.
Susie must have taken a few pointers from watching me stroke myself on our video call, because there’s nothing gentle about the way she tightens her grip and tugs.
My breath hisses through my teeth. “Fuck. Yes. Just like that.”
She strokes me once, twice, again, and the devious, satisfied expression on her face is the last thing I see before my head drops back against the sofa.
“Your shirt,” she says, dragging her teeth over my throat. “Take it off.”
I freeze.
A bucket of cold water over my head couldn’t have done more to jerk me right out of the moment than those words and the light tugging grip she has on the bottom of my shirt.
My throat tightens, and all my muscles bunch with the immediate need to get up, leave the room, put some space between us.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
This is exactly what I didn’t want to happen.
This same old tired need to cover myself, to make myself invisible, to hide.
I drag a breath in through my nose and make myself meet Susie’s eye.
And the worry I find there, the uncertain frown that’s replaced all the beautiful lust she was wearing just a few seconds ago, sends my stomach plummeting right down to my feet.