Page 134 of Facing Off
“You’re doing so well taking it.” He pulls my hips closer and lifts both legs to drape them over his shoulders. “And now, you’ll take more.”
Adrian doesn’t relent. He eats me out through my release—and then keeps going. No rest. No break, adding a second finger when I’ve been stretched enough. “Look atthat beautiful pussy shake for me. Look at how desperately it needs to be fucked.”
My hips shift to accommodate him shamelessly. It doesn’t matter if my body is wrung out. If I’ve been rocked by continuous waves of toe-curling pleasure.
He laps my clit using the broad flatness of his tongue. “That’s it, baby. Keep squeezing my fingers with your pretty pussy.”
His words—and his fingers—and his tongue make me whine. I’m going incoherent.
“You taste so good, Sonya. I can’t get enough.” He curses. “Fuck, I won’t ever be able to get enough.”
He lifts his head as his two fingers plunge into me faster, curling upwards. Foggy blue eyes lock on mine, knocking the air out of my lungs. “You’ll want more, won’t you? This isn’t it, is it?” He’s pleading for answers in that demanding way of his as he continues to unravel me with his fingers. “You’ll invite me to your bed next time, won’t you, darling? Say yes. Or we can go to mine because my bed is already yours. Did you know that? It’s yours. So is everything I have. You own me completely.”
“No—” I attempt to deny him.
He pinches my clit. Coaxes it. Pinches again.
My spine curves. “Adrian, fuck! Fuckfuckfuck. Please.”
“Argue all you want but, darling, you’re?—”
My whole world?
I don’t know if those were his words, because the second orgasm barrels right into me. And I’m lost, shaking and floating away in a state of spasming bliss.
It takes a long time to come down from it. I mumble something about not being able to move.
No matter.
Adrian is doing all the work. Rearranging me on the couch, pressing kisses on the tops of both knees, thenskimming his mouth over my pussy again as if he can’t get enough, not wanting to waste any bit of my fading orgasm. Nuzzling his face there, praising me, saying how breathtaking I am, that he could spend the rest of his life tasting me and it’ll never be enough. How he can do better if it’s not enough, that he’ll give me more because anything I want, I get.
He’s checking to see how I’m doing. Are you okay? Was it what you wanted? Was it what you needed?
My eyes blink close as I mumble incoherentyeses.
When they open again, he’s back with a warm damp towel cleaning me up. I’m given water. Propped on his chest. My body sinks against his. He says he loves the weight, arranging me to be completely on top of him. We’re…cuddling.
I’ve never allowed myself to experience this. I never trusted anyone else to be like this with them before.
My hip brushes the front of his pants. His cock is still half-hard, but there’s dampness.
“You came?” I whisper.
His cheeks splash pink. “How could I not? I was tasting you.”
My hand reaches down, intending to stroke. It’s not fair I didn’t see the moment when he broke apart.
“No.” He traps my hands. Kisses all the knuckles. “Please. Don’t.”
“Why?”
“Next time.”
The way he says it, there’s this unmissable implication. That therewillbe a next time.
“Next time,” I promise. “But also this time?—”
“Sonya, you’ve made me hard more times than you can ever imagine, and it hasn’t killed me yet. I’ll survive,” he insists.
