Page 140 of Lost Then Found
“Try again.” My teeth graze her skin. “Tell me exactly what you want. Use your words, baby. Be a good girl for me.”
Her head tips back, her chest rising like she’s trying to pull oxygen into lungs that forgot how to work. Then—
“I want you to bury your face in my pussy and make me scream.” Her voice is wrecked, shaking. “I want your tongue deep inside me. I want you to suck my clit until I’m begging you to stop—”
Fuck.
There it is.
Something inside me unravels, burns hot and fast.
I drag my tongue through her folds before she can finish. She cries out, her hands flying to my hair, gripping tight, pulling me closer like she already knows I’ll give her everything she wants and more.
And fuck if I’m not about to.
The second my mouth hits her, I’m a goner.
She’s soaked—dripping and twitching, laid out and begging without saying a word. I groan against her, the sound guttural and hungry, because nothing—nothing—tastes like her.
She’s sweet and slick and fucking perfect, and I bury my face in her like there’s nowhere else I’d rather be. My tongue drags through her folds, slow and deliberate, tasting everything she gives me, then circles back up to her clit—pressing, flicking, sucking—until her thighs shake against my shoulders.
“Jesus, Boone—” she gasps. Her hips jerk up and I catch them with myhands, pinning her to the mattress with a low growl.
“Stay still,” I rasp. “I need to taste all of you.”
And I do.
I spread her wider, push her knees back with my shoulders until she’s fully open to me. Dripping for me.
Then I lick lower—drag my tongue down past her entrance, slow and filthy, tracing the slick curve where she’s wettest. Down further, until my mouth finds the sensitive spot where she’s soft and flushed, right where she connects to her ass.
She gasps so hard it sounds like a sob, one hand flying to her mouth, the other gripping the sheets in a death grip.
“Boone—oh my God—”
I flatten my tongue and lap at her there, slow and possessive, like she’s my favorite meal to feast on and I plan to take my time. She lets out this high, broken sound and arches off the bed, her body shaking. I feel every shiver, every stutter of breath, every inch of her coming undone for me.
She’s soaking my mouth. My chin. My fingers.
And I don’t give a single fuck. I could do this all day.
I move back up, mouth closing around her clit again, while two fingers slide deep inside her—curling just right, dragging against that spot that makes her choke on my name.
Her thighs clamp around my head and I groan into her, tongue flicking fast, while my fingers fuck her deep, steady, unrelenting.
“Boone, I—I’m gonna—fuck, I can’t—”
“Yes, you can,” I growl, sucking her clit into my mouth and holding it there while I push my fingers deeper. “Come for me, sweetheart.”
She breaks with a cry that shakes the walls—legs trembling, body convulsing, her hips grinding into my mouth like she’s chasing every last wave. I keep going—slow licks, deep strokes—until she’s wrung out and boneless.
She’s still shaking when I finally pull my mouth from her—lips wet, chin slick with her. She’s spread out and wrecked, breath catching in uneven gasps, hair wild against the pillow.
I drag my fingers out of her slow, watching the way she flinches, hips twitching like her body doesn’t know what to do without the pressure. My fingers glisten, dripping with her, and fuck if that doesn’t make my cock throb behind my jeans.
I crawl up her body, dragging my mouth along her stomach, teeth catching the curve of her ribcage before I bite down gently on the underside of her breast. She arches, her hands finding my shoulders.
I press my chest against hers, but don’t kiss her yet. Instead, I hold my hand between us—two fingers coated in her slick—and tilt her chin with my other hand until she’s looking at me.
