Page 154 of The Bet
When she still didn’t object, he tugged her jeans all the way down, along with her panties. Right down to her ankles.
“You’re hard to resist,” he told her, pulling her back down on the ottoman, goosebumps shivering across his back as he pushed her knees apart. His mouth watered to see her glistening folds.
There would be other times for confession.
A quickening started low in her belly, rippling out, spreading like wildfire. She hesitated at first, unsure, yet tingling, her body ready to be pleasured again, like the last time.
“Closer,” he said, pulling her towards him. He was seeing her naked again, making her exposed, and open, and ready for him again. He wanted this, and she wanted to let him. He had been unusually quiet over dinner, and had seemed agitated and slightly uneasy just now, setting her on edge with worry. But then he took charge, told her to strip, and she did, because his command spoke directly to her core.
And when he sank his fingers into her wetness, he seemed to relax. He looked up at her, as if wanting to see her reaction while his fingers glided over her slickness. All she could do was gasp in response.
His touch was soft, soft, soft, and oh-so-teasing. She fell back onto her elbows, a soft mewl escaping her lips as his fingers and thumbs slid over her soaking folds. She should have been embarrassed, but she wasn’t. He had control of her body, and made her shudder, and moan, as he played with her, pulling and teasing, and gently pinching her soft, wet flesh.
A trail of fire snaked around her, curling along her inner thighs and slowly slithering upwards. She felt herself tensing, her toes curling, and her breasts heavy with want. Until he suddenly stopped, his fingers still, halting the rising crescendo of her wave, controlling the pace of her excitement. “It’s not fair,” she rasped, “You never let me touch you—”
But she didn’t get to finish her words, because in the next moment, he flicked his tongue, and she jerked at the change in texture, from his hard fingers, to his soft, wet mouth.
He licked her then, making her body shake and throb as he dragged his tongue, thick and flat and pressed up against her in slow, deliberate strokes. He started lower, in the heat of her center, and moved up to the tip where he lapped, and teased and sucked her, before moving back down again.
It was dirty, and intoxicating, and she writhed to his touch, clenching and releasing to his tune, in awe of his prowess, and what he could do to her. The intensity between them was raw, and animalistic, and she wanted to give him her all. Give him everything.
He kissed her below, for the longest, most delicious of moments, making her head roll back, because she had never experienced an emotion so deep, and so pure. She groaned, moving her feet to rest over his shoulders, feeling loose, and wet and shameless. He grunted appreciatively, a moan, low and guttural, coming from deep in his throat as he pulled her towards him, his tongue buried deep to the hilt, until it was all him.
She lay back, lifting her hips, pushing herself into his face, losing herself in him, then cried out, clenching her muscles and fisting her hands in his hair.
He came up for air, then, moved his face away and gave her time to breathe, and recover. But not for long. He lowered his head again and sucked her tip hard, this time thrusting his fingers in at the same time. Her cries filled the air and her entire body shook, releasing a surge so powerful, it engulfed her body, mind and soul.
