Page 124 of A Forgotten Promise

Oh my. He thrusts his tongue into my channel with such dedication, I almost black out. Pushing my thighs apart, he digs his palms into my skin, holding me in place while I thrash and squirm, trying to buck.

“You taste so good.” He spreads me with his fingers and blows.

The cold air on my pulsating pussy elevates the sensation to a new, unbearable level. And why did he change the pace? I can’t stand it.

I bring my arms down and grip his hair. He jerks away, and before I realize what’s happening, the whip comes down five more times.

I cry, or moan, or roar; I’m not sure what the sound that comes out of me is. “I can’t; I can’t anymore…” I whine.

“Arms,” he growls.

Shit. “Corm, I swear to God—”

He puts the whip’s handle across my lips, and I shut up and move my arms back above my head. He smirks and dives back in. Thank fucking God.

He builds me up with his talented tongue, and then he lifts to his knees and starts grazing my skin gently with the whip. Up my leg, around my belly, over my breasts.

“What are you doing?” I’m practically mad with desire by now.

“What does it look like?” He leans down and takes one nipple into his mouth while moving the whip around my throat, down my arm.

“Corm, I begged,” I cry with frustration. “What else do you want?”

He smiles at me with the most devilish grin known to mankind. I swear, I can feel it between my legs.

He pulls up higher, bracketing my face with his forearms and covering my body with his.

“I want you to have the best orgasm of your life, baby.” His nose is just inches from mine, his breath warm on my skin.

His mouth fuses with mine, and I taste myself and him and… us. It makes me wild, filled with urgency, with so much hunger for him I don’t think I’ll ever be satisfied.

This kiss is different from any before. I don’t know if it’s the result of the edging and my currently oversensitive nerves, but he owns me with this kiss.

It’s possessive and worshiping.

It’s blinding and enlightening.

It’s everything and not enough.

It’s a kiss that makes me forget about my needy pussy. Almost. I’m still quivering with the need.

“Corm, please.” I’m ready to get on my knees and beg. I’m not above anything anymore, my mind wiped out by yearning.

He pushes to his knees; somehow he produces a condom. Throwing my legs over his shoulder, he yanks me closer and fills me with one aggressive thrust.

I cry out with pleasure and pain and relief and everything in between, just completely overcome with the most potent cocktail of sensations.

He sets a punishing tempo, but I’m not complaining, finally getting closer to my release. I want to move my hands to touch him, but somehow that obstacle heightens the thrill.

“Eyes on me, Saar.”

His words register through the fog of bliss. “What?”

“I want you to watch what you do to me,” he pushes through his teeth, barely hanging onto his control.

I lock my eyes on him. It’s a beautiful thing to see this man surrender. So beautiful that it pushes me over the edge.

A freight train of an orgasm rams through me, breaking me into pieces and putting me together at the same time.

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