Page 82 of Never Let You Go

His fingers tilt my chin. “Open wide.” He deposits food on my tongue. My mouth is dry, and I chew with difficulty. The scraping of a chair being pulled over startles me. I swallow. A ruffling sound indicates Christopher seating himself very close to me. His knee brushes against mine. His raspy voice comes from directly ahead of me. “So. What is it.”

“It’s—It’s hard to tell.” My mouth is so dry, it seems full of sand. “Could I have some water?”

The chair scrapes the floor. Christopher’s footsteps fade out and then back in. He cups my nape. “Careful,” he says as I take a sip then dip deeper in the glass. He lifts it, and water trickles down the corner of my mouth, along my throat, to my collarbone. When I’m done, he wipes my lip with his finger. I nibble on it, and his breathing hitches. Freeing himself from me, he lets his hand follow the wet trail until it rests on my collarbone, above my breasts. I tilt back, willing his hand lower, and my hips move toward him.

“What do you want?” he murmurs in my ear, his breath and voice setting my core on fire.

His hand trails down and palms my breast. He growls. I arch my back more, pushing myself against him. Through the fabric, he finds my nipple and rolls it between his fingers. A moan escapes me. “I want you,” I finally answer.

He takes a deep breath and releases my nipple. His fingers behind my nape knead my neck.

He presses his finger against my lips, and I take him in my mouth. I close my lips around him, hold him tightly between my sheathed teeth, and wrap my tongue around him. He takes a sharp inhale but does nothing to remove his finger. I suck on it and run my tongue slowly around his finger.

He pushes a knee between my legs, demanding. I spread my thighs and tilt my hips. He runs his free hand slowly from my side down to my waist and in between my legs, teasing my middle through the fabric of my pants.

“Stop teasing me,” I pant.

He fumbles with the zipper of my pants.

Yes.

I push myself off the seat so he can push my pants down to my ankles, then drop back down, thighs shamelessly spread open.

His finger trails the side of my thong. I rock myself against him and release his finger from my mouth. Both his hands trail up my ass then down my thighs all the way to my knees, and back up, bringing my arousal to dangerous levels. Then his hands move to the insides of my thighs and slowly make their way up. The higher they get, the harder I breathe. I writhe under the teasing of his large, warm hands so close to my pulsing middle.

“Fuck, Alexandra, you’re so soft.” He teases the fabric of my thong then grabs my thighs and pulls them wider apart. With painful slowness, he makes his way to my center. He rubs my clit through the fabric of my G-string. “You’re soaked. You fucking soaked your panties,” he growls. “My turn to do a tasting,” he says as he slides under the fabric and dips his finger in my folds, causing me to stop breathing under his knowing hands. He circles my clit teasingly, the only sound my hitched breathing and his heavy panting.

The feeling is so intense and so good, I want it to last forever. “Oh, my god, Christopher, don’t stop. Don’t stop. Keep going.”

He stops, and his fingers leave me.

I whine and push my hips toward him. “Please.”

A sucking sound comes from him. “Oh, fuck. You taste delicious. So sweet. I shoulda known.”

He pinches my nipple through my top, and I moan again. He pulls my top and my bra down and takes my breast in his mouth while the palm of his hand gently presses my nub. The drumming of his fingers on my clit intensifies my pleasure, and when he pushes the fabric of my thong to the side and teases my folds, making slow circles around my clit without ever touching it, I nearly lose it.

He nibbles on my breast with sheathed teeth, bringing excruciatingly delicious almost-pain that travels to my insides. I move my hips to the side to try and meet his finger with my clit.

He presses the flat of his hand on my pelvis to make me stop, then drums his fingers on my clit before finally, finally stroking it steadily, full on.

I moan, pleasure mounting in me like a tidal wave under his constant caress. His scent intoxicates me as I lean into his head. “Ohmygod, ohmygod Christopher, don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.”

He takes his mouth off my breast.

“Please,” I beg him.

He takes my other breast in, and I squeal as he sucks the nipple then nibbles on it, the intense pleasure rapturing my body.

My orgasm builds in my toes, and as Christopher sucks harder on my nipple, a low wail escapes my mouth. Pleasure strikes through me like lightning, and as I come undone, he plunges two fingers inside me, his thumb still working my clit.

The tremor that seizes my body is such that the belt that ties my wrists comes loose. I hold onto it for dear life. My blindfold slips off, and the sight of Christopher working me right here, in the middle of his bakehouse, only occupied with my pleasure, might be my undoing. His curls tickle my skin as he sucks my breast, and his dark hand plunges between my pink thighs, the veins on his flexed forearm bulging. As I let out a cry, he gently presses his free hand to my mouth, stifling my sounds of ecstasy.

I come undone, shaking and out of breath, my heartbeat at its max. He slows his motions, cups my pelvis, and leans down to kiss my belly, gathering the last tremors of my orgasm.

I slowly come down from my high, drop the belt to the floor, and bring my hands to his head.

Ohmygod what is happening. Since I’ve gotten out of my own way and told him I wanted everything from him, he’s given me the best kiss ever, and not one, but two orgasms in one day, and he hasn’t even dropped once piece of his own clothing.

---