Page 36 of Beauty
“My word. If I say butterfly, you stop.”
The only indication that he’s heard me is a slight inhale of breath, followed by a thick swallow. Then he’s back to staring out at the ocean. He remains like that, silent, contemplative, for so long that I think I must have imagined the way he just worked me over. Just as I’m getting restless, his fingers move. A tiny adjustment. I freeze, holding my breath, worrying I imagined it. But then it happens again. This time, his fingers twitch a little more obviously, and then he slides his palm up my thigh and between my legs.
The grin that spreads across his face is wicked. “You’re soaked.”
A surprised laugh rips through me. “I’m pretty sure I need to shower. My thighs are coated.”
“In your cum,” he rumbles, looking at me with an intensity that sets my skin on fire. “I’m going to bring you inside and lick up every single drop.” Then his finger is prodding at my entrance, the slickness there allowing it to slip in without resistance.
I moan, my head tipped back against his bicep.
He thrusts in and out slowly, deliberately, as if he has a plan and refuses to deviate from it, studying me, brow furrowed, like he’s memorizing every detail, as if each freckle, each line, is knowledge he needs for a test he intends to ace.
I’m catching on. This focus, this determination, means I’m going to come again. So I will my body to relax and focus on the sensations.
“I’m going to settle you on the bed.” He presses his thumb to my clit without stopping his ministrations. “And I’m going to tell you to open your knees for me.” He licks his lips, heat flaring in his irises. “Then I’m gonna tell you to take those dainty fingers of yours and spread your cunt wide so I can lean over and get my fill.” A shaky breath escapes him, but when he speaks again, his tone is just as stern. “My glasses have to come off when we fuck, but I want to see every inch of what’s mine before I do that.” He drags his gaze down my body, to my breasts, which are fully exposed to the midday sun now that my robe has fallen open down to where he’s working me over.
Like this, I’m exposed. It sends a thrill through me, even though there’s not a soul in sight. If the control he craves is anything to go by, he wouldn’t let anyone see me like this, but the idea that a person could walk up on us at any time doesn’t exactly bother me. In fact, the thought makes me gush around his fingers.
He lets out a low, rough moan of his own. “Then once I’ve gotten my fill, once I’ve cataloged every inch of you, I’ll put my glasses on the bedside table and hand you a condom. While you rip it open, I’ll take out my cock for you.”
I imagine it. Every second. The way he’d carefully fold up his glasses and gently set them down. That simple move shouldn’t be such a turn-on. Maybe it’s the dichotomy of it all. The dirty words, the demands, paired with the exquisite thought and care in his every movement, especially when it comes to my pleasure.
The desperate need to finally see his cock helps. The vision I’ve already conjured of rolling the condom over his shaft, pulling a desperate groan from him in the process.
“Help me, Sienna, spread that cunt wide open for me just like you will in there, let me see everything.”
I do as I’m told without hesitation. I’m wanton, aching for his touch, aching for more of him. My fingers brush over hisknuckles, and when I pull myself open for him, he leans forward and sighs.
“Look at how beautiful you are. How your blood has all rushed to this spot, making you so pink and lovely for me.” He blows air against my exposed pussy, and I shudder violently in his arms. “That’s my girl,” he rasps. “Come for me so I can take you inside and drink from you.”
His words are all it takes to send me over the edge. I come hard, liquid gushing from me. Unashamed, I give in, moaning loudly. He leans over me, transfixed, enraptured, his focus completely set, like he can’t get enough of watching me pulse around his fingers.
The chuckle that leaves him is pure sex. “You squirted all over my glasses. Fuck,” he hisses, like he’s lost control. Like he’s so taken aback that he’s lost the script for a moment.
With a final curl of his finger, he slips out of me and hauls me into the villa, like he can’t move quick enough.
The world around me is a blur. It only comes back into focus when I’m on my back, watching the ceiling fan rotate lazily above, and he’s suctioning his lips over my clit and drinking my orgasm from my body. He works me through the last of my release, and even as it abates, he doesn’t stop. He licks and sucks and finger-fucks me straight into another. And as I enter a state of ecstasy I never could have imagined, I can only hope he does every single thing he’s promised.
TWELVE
NOAH
This woman was madefor me. I hover over her, taking her in, knowing that what I plan to do next will ruin me in the best and worst ways. After this, no other woman will ever come close to satisfying me.
I’ve lost track of time, though I know exactly how many orgasms I’ve given her. While I licked, sucked, and teased one after another from her body, I made her count them. We’re up to nine. And I’ve yet to give her my cock. I’ve explored her tits, her cunt, and her ass with my hands and fingers, and I’ve never in my life been so gloriously edged.
This is the type of pleasure I never allow myself. It’s too addicting. As her skin flushes and she cries out and babbles, the animalistic need takes over. It’s terrifying how singularly focused I am on her pleasure. It makes me want to give up everything and spend my life worshipping her.
The looming deadline is the only reason I’m giving in to my cravings. I can get lost in her for two days, and then I’ll never see her again. I can go back to my life. Back to hockey and, soon, parenthood.
I tell myself I’m allowed to have this. I’m allowed to have her.
Even if I’ll forever look back on this week and know I did it to myself. I ruined it all.
She ruined me.
“Please take off the robe,” she begs.
