“Cooper.” I eye him. “Our dinner is here and?—”
“The only thing I want to eat right now is you.”
Oh, sweet Jesus, my panties probably just flooded.
But I know he’s in pain and letting him do that would be selfish.
“I saw how much it hurt you just to turn over. I don’t want you to?—”
He cuts me off. “You’re going to strip out of those clothes and come sit on my face. Now, unless you’re not interested in me eating your pussy, start moving.”
He doesn’t have to ask twice.
I’m incredibly interested.
We didn’t get to do that in Iraq. Hell, we’d barely done anything, and I’ve fantasized about doing just about everything with him.
I strip in record time and climb onto the bed. He’s slid down so he’s flat on his back, the top of his head about six inches from the wrought iron headboard.
“Put your knees on either side of my head, squat down, and then hang on,” he whispers, his voice gruff.
I want to protest, point out his sore ribs or the fact that I might smother him. I wonder if I should warn him that I’ve never done this in this way before, but I can’t seem to formulate any words. My body is moving into position without much input from the rest of me, and my eyes fall shut as he puts his hands on my hips.
I already know this is going to be good.
“A little lower,” he instructs.
I sink down and then his mouth is close. So close I can feel the warmth of his breath. His mouth. Oh shit. Right. There.
Holy hell.
This is magical torture.
He knows exactly what to do, and my body responds automatically.
When he uses the tip of his tongue to trace a line along my slit, all I can do is groan.
He does that a few times, and then pushes his tongue inside of me.
“Oh, fuck, that feels good.” All I can do is pant as he tongue-fucks me. My hips tilt into the perfect angle, and I have to close my hands around the poles of the headboard to keep from sliding down.
He licks and nibbles and sucks, alternately sliding inside of me and then pulling away. I want to beg for more, but he’s taking his time. As if I’m not on the verge of detonation.
“Cooper…” I moan in protest when he slows down.
“What did I tell you to call me when I’m inside you?” he growls.
“Ryan…Ryan, please!” I’m so close.
So, so close.
My pussy flutters and clenches with need.
And still, he’s softly nibbling the tender folds between my legs, occasionally putting his tongue inside of me, and then using it to taunt my clit with the tip.
“Please,” I whimper.
“I’ve waited a long time for this. You’re going to let me savor it.”