Page 43 of Bartholomew
“Like here?” I teased, letting my fingers move up to the upper part of her thighs, skirting the edge of her vulva.
“Oh mercy, Ollie,” she gasped, her legs shifting again. My fingers moved closer, right over the seam of her sex.
“What is it, babygirl? Use that pretty little mouth and tell me all your fantasies.” I enticed her words forth. My fingers moved along that glistening seam, feeling her wetness already seeping out of her. “You’re already getting wet for me, beautiful. I can’t begin to tell you all the fantasies running through my mind. All centered on your pleasure.”
“Ollie, when you talk like that, I can’t think straight,” she whimpered, her hands clutching at the coverlet.
“Good. Life is meant for living in curves, not straight lines,” I purred, moving down her body. “Spread those legs for me, Delilah. Allow me to learn every intimate part of you. Let me give you a reason to call my name out into the darkness of night.”
Her legs spread, and I situated myself between them.
“What are you doing?” she almost screeched, gaping at me as I sat cross-legged between her thighs. My gaze settled on her, pinning her with a look that she blushed beneath. Good. I never wanted her to feel insecure, but she needed to become accustomed to my looking at her, because, Christ Almighty, she was a sight to behold.
“What? I told you I wanted to become intimately acquainted with your body. That takes time and I plan to explore the heaven between your folds for as long as you’ll allow. Settle in, love, while I show you what heaven on Earth feels like,” I promised, letting those wandering fingers dance over her folds. I slipped one digit between her lower lips, immediately feeling the scorching heat of her sex envelope me, almost sucking me. The swollen nub of her clit bumped under my fingertip, making her hips rock and her mouth hang open in shock.
“This. This spot, right here, is nothing less than the most perfect creation that ever existed,” I spoke softly, swirling my fingertip over that spot. “A bundle of nerves that I intent to tickle, torment, and torture for hours on end.”
“You can’t be serious,” she gasped out as her hips rocked in time to my movements.
“Oh, I could not be more serious, love. You have no idea just how serious I am.” I knew that she did not yet understand the magnitude of the promise I spoke. I slipped my fingers lower, sliding one inside of her tight channel. “Christ, you are tight as hell,” I cursed softly. I let my thumb circle over her nub as I began a rhythm as old as time itself. Her hips followed suit, searching for a release I knew she had no knowledge of. Yet. Tonight, she would know. Tonight, she would become so familiar feeling her own orgasm, she would forget her own name. She would forget every name save my own. My name she would scream until the walls shook if I had my way.
As the feelings rose within her, her writhing increased. Her thighs clenched and rose, almost cutting off my movements.
“Keep those deliciously curvy legs open for me, love. I need to have full access to your incredible body. I need to watch your reactions and learn what makes your desire ignite,” I murmured.
“I’m on fire, Ollie,” she moaned, her fists clenching the coverlet. It was glorious to watch those nipples harden further, to watch her back arch as she searched for release. But I wanted more.
“Then burn for me,” I nearly growled, increasing my pace. I kept my touch light, noting the way she responded to light touches more than firmer ones. Her thighs quaked beneath each swipe of my thumb over her clit. “That’s it, Delilah. Let that tingling sensation consume you. Don’t fight it,” I coaxed. My eyes drank her in, completely intoxicated by the sight of her body reaching for orgasm.
“Ollie!” she cried out. She was so close. So very close to that precipice. Fucking hell, how I wanted to feel her cum around my fingers.
“That’s it, love. Right there. Squeeze around my fingers and fly for me.” Words flew from my mouth as her hands lifted to her hair and she writhed beneath me. Her wet pussy clenched around me, pulsing on its way to becoming a vice grip as she neared closer and closer to that climax.
“Ollie! Oh God!!!” she screamed. She fucking screamed for me. Her back arched clear off the bed and her body shook with intensity as her orgasm hit. Sweet juices flooded her tight opening, which currently held my fingers in a grip that made my cock weep with want.
My fingers curled up against the front wall of her cavern.
“Ollie!” she keened, and I smirked. This was what I wanted. This was what fueled me.
“Again,” I commanded. Yes, I commanded. I wasn’t her Dominant. For fuck’s sake, she did not even know what a Dominant was, but this wasn’t about that kind of dominance. This was about a husband taking control of his wife’s pleasure and, by whatever deity existed out there, I was going to pull every last orgasm from this luscious woman’s body if it took me all night. I fucking hoped it took all night.
Her body convulsed, curling in on itself as her second orgasm hit. Once again, her pussy held me in a vise grip. I could not even thrust my finger into her heat, instead settling on pressing my finger into her g-spot.
“Ollie,” she gasped, panting for breath as her body trembled in aftershocks. I pulled my finger from her heat and brought it to my lips.
“Eyes on me, love,” I commanded. I knew I tiptoed that line of being dominant and being simply her husband, but I didn’t care. It was nothing untoward and, Jesus Christ, the way she just followed those little commands became my addiction. Her eyes found mine and then widened in shock. Her hands covered her face in embarrassment.
“Please tell me that is not the finger that you just…” her words trailed off as her blush spread down her breasts. Glorious.
“Oh, it is. It absolutely is,” I groaned, pressing the digit in question to my lips and taking a long lick. “Fuck.”
“You did not just taste… THAT!” she screeched, hiding her face in her hands.
“Eyes, Delilah,” I commanded with more force than I had all evening. I needed her to know I was serious. “I need you to understand me. Right here. Right now. I am a man who lives a life of gluttonous decadence. I love good food, good wine, good music, just as I’ve stated before. But hear me loud and clear. I love good sex, and I am a glutton for your decadent pussy. You taste like heaven personified. I will lick every inch of that curvy, beautiful body a million times over and never tire of your taste. My hunger for you will not be sated by the mere act of lovemaking. No, I will take my fill of you, gorge myself on your womanhood and rise again the next day with a hunger that has only increased tenfold. You, my dear, are decadence personified. You, dear Delilah, are the most intoxicating, exquisite form of addiction I could have ever imagined.”
My eyes did not leave hers once as I spoke. I slipped my finger fully into my mouth, groaning lewdly as her flavor covered my taste buds, exploding into a taste that only had me salivating for more.
“With that being said, I must have more.” Before she had a moment to ponder anything, I repositioned myself, spreading her thighs wide enough to fit my broad shoulders, and looked up at her. “Breathe, Delilah.”
