Page 50 of Swim To Me

“Uh-huh.” Grey’s fingers move, tracing the backs of my thighs. “And now?”

“My thighs.”

He moves again, a body part of his cracking, but I don’t dare lift my head to see and spoil the game.

Warmth ghosts over my core, the tip of a finger sliding through my folds, until my hips buck instinctively. “Now?”

“My–ngh.”

Grey slips his middle finger inside, quickly followed by his index and crooks them both. Normally, fingers don’t cut it for me, never thick enough or able to reach that spot. But my body seems to react to every part of Grey until I’m spasming.

“Use your words, gorgeous.”

My face flames, prickles spreading to my upper chest. “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.” Grey parts my folds with his other hand, spreading me open, allowing the rush of cold air to stimulate me. “You’ve read them so I know you can say them. I know you’re not shy.”

Not when it comes to my orgasm I’m usually not, but there’s something about Grey, something tearing me apart, out into the open, no matter how hard I try to hold onto the pieces of myself.

“Say it, Delilah.”

I don’t even try to hold back my whimper. “My pussy.”

Grey licks a long stripe up my pink flesh, nibbling and sucking at my folds while his fingers drive upwards inside me, hitting that spongey spot I’ve read about but never been able to reach without a toy.

I cry out into my arms, muffling the sound of my screams as Grey goes to town, sucking and swiping his tongue acrossmy clit, nose buried in my seam, fingers constantly moving, squelching.

“Tell me when you’re close.”

“I’m-I’m—”

I don’t even have time, or the breath capacity, to warn Grey before I’m splitting apart, bursting on his tongue. His groans kiss my ears, burying his face even further into my pussy while my walls pulsate around him.

He continues to lick at me, fingers moving at a leisurely pace, until I reach back and push at his forehead, overstimulated and sweaty.

Placing one last kiss to the backs of my thighs, Grey slips out of me, drawing shapes and letters onto my arse and hips with his wet fingertips, while he drapes his front over my back, shielding me and whispers into the shell of my ear, “Feel out of your head yet?”

I nod, unable to answer. Eyelids, head, and body heavy and sated.

“I’m going to go get a condom, don’t move—”

“Are you clean?”

“Yeah, I haven’t been with anyone in the past year and—”

I swallow hard, the ache in my core relighting. I turn my head to look at Grey, our face inches apart. “I’m clean too and I-I want to feel you. Just for tonight.”

Grey simply watches me, his lips parted, and then he’s nodding, pulling me in to tangle our tongues together.

His hips kiss the rounded flesh of my arse, grinding into me, bare, leaving a smear of precum etched into my skin. I arch my back as much as I possibly can, feeling the long length of him slip along the cleft of my arse and down to my core. Without the condom, Grey’s feels warmer, the skin of his cock velvety soft.

Gripping the base of himself, he slides his tip up and down, up and down, up and down, teasing us both until I can feel myself dripping, my mind blanking out.

“Feel good, gorgeous?”

“Yeah,” I moan brokenly, and he isn’t even inside me yet.

“That’s it,” Grey praises. “Focus on how you feel, how we feel together. Nothing else fucking matters right now. Just this. Just us.”

---