Page 135 of The Tenth Muse

“You too.” I muster out my own shaky command.

My heart races, Runa’s movements so slow and deliberate that it feels like thousands of beats pass between her reaching for her shoulder strap and pulling it down.

I want to tear her clothes off. I want to rip them off her body with my own hands and then stare at her until I’ve memorized every inch of her skin.

Instead, I just watch, biting my cheek and breathing through a pounding in my chest that’s so intense it feels like I may faint at any moment.

“Breathe,” she reminds me, a soft smile on her face as she drops the last piece of clothing still on her.

There’s no point though.

Why breathe when there’s no air left in the room? Why breathe when dying right here, right now, would ensure I’d die the happiest I could ever possibly be?

Runa slowly climbs onto the bed, one knee at a time before she crawls over me, forcing me to drop all the way to my back. “Is there anything you don’t like?” She asks, her eyes scanning over every part of me.

The question takes me aback because it’s not something I’ve been asked before, not something I’ve thought about or taken the time to explore with previous partners or myself. “I-I don’t really know.”

My confession is just as uncertain as I am.

She smiles like she understands, “We’ll figure it out together then, just let me know and I’ll stop, okay?”

I nod, watching her as she lowers herself closer to me. When her lips touch my breast, I hiss, the soft, pillowy flesh so warm as she parts them slightly through the kiss.

“Ah!” The gasp is involuntary, a feeling building through my spine each time she pulls away and presses her lips to me again.

Her left knee moves to where my thighs split, resting right against the place where my heat builds.

I feel the wet of her tongue when her mouth closes around my nipple, my back arching on command from the ripple of pleasure. Runa’s chuckle grows from a quiet to a dark and seductive sound, tantalizing, as if to say everything she does is now on purpose.

There are no mistakes here.

I whine, squirming with each flick of her tongue against the hardened bead, my core tightening as each wave of pleasure rises higher and higher than the next, waiting for the tidal wave to crash down.

“Runa.” I whimper her name past my lips, grinding against her leg to feel some sort of relief but only making it worse.

Only yearning for more.

“My greedy girl,” she hums a satisfied sound, “I can’t wait to feel that pussy gripping my fingers.”

The filth out of her mouth only makes me needier for her touch. I squirm, watching her stare down at me like she can’t wait to make me come undone.

She doesn’t realize I’m already there. I’m standing at the precipice, it would take less than a breeze to push me over. Runa moves her hands exploratively, squeezing my breasts, thumbs tracing my nipples, pinching and torturing as if I’m just a doll in her hands.

I moan, clawing at the sheets, the mess between my legs further spreading over her thighs, dripping down onto the bed. She toys with me, hands rubbing my inner thighs, fingers grazing the outside of my vulva, touches precise and firm and then light and brief.

I’m loud enough to be heard through the trees, her name a raspy chant from my parched lips. She’s barely touched me yet I feel like I’m ready to combust, ready to break apart and shatter into a million pieces.

Finally, her thumb presses down onto the swollen nub of my clit, “I want to fill these woods with the sound of you screaming for me.” I cry, biting my lip as I fight to hold back the orgasm forcing its way through.

It’s too soon, I’m not ready to be done.

I never want her to stop touching me.

I’m not the one in charge and here on this bed, my body listens only to her. It feels like I’m splintering open, breaking apart from the inside out, convulsing from wave after wave of pleasure crashing over me. She holds my hip with one hand, still tracing my clit with the other in slow circles that prolong my climax.

“Fuck,” she groans, “you’re so wet and messy, I fucking love it.”

I can only whimper my reply, still panting and breathing hard as I come down. She doesn’t give me a chance though, the same fingers now spearing their way inside of me, hooking upwards and hitting the spot that forces my toes to curl.