Page 23 of Welcome Home
He leans closer, pressing me down into the seat, his cock brushing my chest, inches from my breasts. My hardened nipples where I long for him to brush the tip. I’m aching as he slips his wedding band off, setting it next to mine. “You’ve soaked through your underwear, my love. Making a mess on the seat.”
He doesn’t wait for me to respond, his hands slipping up my arms feather light, his lips brushing mine. Giving me everything and nothing all at once until his hands slip underneath the hem of my tank top. The fabric is luxurious, soft and cool and suddenly it’s too much. He takes his time, lips brush against mine again before he pulls it up over my head exposing my breasts.
Something is about to happen.
Something that shouldn’t.
His lips don’t slam into mine, they don’t overwhelm, his teeth don’t bite and pull or draw blood. They caress, consume, cherish. It’s heavy and the weight settles onto my chest as his hand cups the back of my head, keeping me hostage here. Soon enough I can’t hold out, I don’t want to. It’s been so long since I’ve been touched like this. If I’ve ever been touched like this. My lips move with his, faster, harder than what he was offering. Soon his hands dust over my breasts, teasing and gentle before his thumbs flick at my nipples, forcing a moan from my throat.
“Oliver.” I gasp as he dips his head, leaving my lips swollen kissing down my chest, his tongue leaving lines on my flesh.
“No, my greatest love. Call me Vosz.”
I lower my head, staring down at him as he continues his journey. Soon honey-colored eyes peek up behind dark lashes, watching me.
Waiting.
His tongue flicks out, testing a nipple. “If you refuse to say it, I’ll wring it from you.”
My back arches off the chair, pushing my breast into his waiting mouth. Feeding it to him and he takes it greedily with a heavy groan, one that rumbles through his chest, vibrating all the places our skin touches. My teeth bite into my lips as I suck them in, fighting the urge to test his name on my tongue. To call him who he is, not who he looks like. God help me, I want it so badly.
Waves of need form a line from my chest, plunging deep into my clenching core. Begging to be filled. When I press my hips forward, searching for something to ease the throbbing in my sex, he meets me, giving me a glimpse of the friction I need.
“Please.” I whisper, my nails sinking into his back as he pops off my reddened nipple, dragging his lips to the other.
“Please what, my love?”
“I- I need-“
“Oh, I know what you need,” he laps at my nipple, making me cry out. Wantonly grinding on the whispered touches of his cockhead, my underwear creating the worst barrier. “I’ve known what you need from the moment I learned of you. You need to be loved, and Cora, no creature alive has ever loved you like me. You need to be fucked; you need orgasms that will burn that name into your memory. That will ruin you so I can piece you back together again. You need to be cared for, cherished, worshipped.” I gasp as he kneels, shifting my underwear to the side before blowing softly on my swollen sex. “There is no one that worships you like me. I am on my knees for you, Cora dear.”
With that, he drags his tongue over my slit. A strangled sound I’ve only ever made one other time leaves my throat as I push into him, grinding into his mouth. He doesn’t admonish me, push me away or sneer. He devours me, sucking and fucking me with his tongue. Each pass robbing me of breath. If I had air to spare, I would’ve screamed his name from the top of my lungs.
I wrench myself up off the chair, my fingers knotting in his hair as I grind into him. He laps and sucks like a starving man-thing. My hand drifts down his back. When I flatten my palm, I wait to feel him breathe; he doesn’t.
“Fuck, you taste divine.” He groans, slipping his free hand, the one that isn’t grasped onto my thigh, keeping me stretched wide for him. When he reaches for my chin, he forces my head upwards, away from him as a shot of alarm courses through me.
“Ol-“ My words end in a scream as I’m speared. His tongue grows, evolving inside me until he hits places that have never been touched before. My scream trails off into something that sounds a lot like his name. I try to wriggle my head free to see what it’s changed into, but he keeps me locked here. Moaning into my swollen sex. Small soft barbs add friction as he plunges it in and out of my core, going deeper and deeper. Stopping just before he gets to a place that hurts. I get no warning of my building climax. When he rolls his tongue, I simply explode. My arousal gushing around his long, slender tongue and dripping out past it. If my mind wasn’t reduced to putty, I’m sure I’d be embarrassed, but I’m not. He doesn’t withdraw right away. He stays, drawing out my orgasm until tears soak my face.
“Vosz please! No more!” I sob.
I can feel it as he withdraws, the odd fibrous sides of his serpent like tongue rubbing against my channel. My core is still pulsing, my tears falling and my breath ragged as he lavishes the space between my thighs, cleaning me of my juices. The long tongue coils and laps until the man is satisfied. Soon after I’m released, my head snaps down despite the pain in my neck. Trying to catch a glimpse of what had just given me the most powerful orgasm I’ve ever had.
All I see is him, the handsome face of so many sleepless, teary nights gazing up at me. His face covered in my juices, his eyes staring up at me with awe. “You are perfection.”
I’m still panting as I’m heaved off the chair, his one arm more than enough to lift all my one hundred and fifty some odd pounds like I’m a teacup. I’m not tossed on the bed but draped there as if it’s an altar. He doesn’t clean his mouth as he climbs on top of me, wiping the tears from my cheeks as he settles in between my legs. His hand making small passes in my hair. “Say it again.”
I swallow hard, a strange emotion stirring in my chest. It's not an unpleasant one, but it's painful… or at least has the potential to be. “Vosz.”
“That’s right love, your monster's name is Vosz.”
I gasp as his eyes flash, the color bleeding from them until they go an opaque white.
His eyes mirror my widening ones. “Fuck.” He jerks back abruptly. “I’m sorry, I got carried away.”
And just like that, reality comes slashing back with a vengeance.
10
