Page 82 of One Night in Glasgow
I let my eyes drift closed, suddenly hyperaware of every sensation. The crisp hotel sheets against my bare skin, the warmth radiating from his body, the gentle sounds of the city waking up below us. His fingers traced the line of my shoulder, so softly I might have imagined it if not for the trail of goosebumps it left behind, while his other hand continued its lazy exploration between my thighs.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his lips brushing against my collarbone. “Do you know that? Do you know what you do to me? How hard my cock gets just looking at you?”
I started to answer, but his mouth moved to the hollow of my throat, and words became impossible. He kissed me there with infinite tenderness, his tongue flickering out to taste my skin. The sensation was electric yet gentle, sending soft waves of pleasure radiating outward from the point of contact.
“I want to worship every inch of you,” he said against my skin, his breath hot and intimate. “Slowly. Until you understand how precious you are. And then I want to fuck you until you can’t remember your own name.”
His hands began a careful exploration of my body, mapping territories he’d claimed with desperate passion the night before but now approached with reverent patience. Hetraced the curve of my breast with just his fingertips, circling but never quite touching my nipple until I was arching toward him, seeking more contact.
“Please,” I breathed, but he just smiled against my skin.
“Patience, love,” he whispered, the endearment falling from his lips so naturally it made my heart clench. “We have all morning. I want to taste every inch of this gorgeous body.”
When his mouth finally closed over my nipple, it was with such gentle suction that I gasped at the unfamiliar sweetness of it. But then his teeth grazed the sensitive peak, sending a jolt of electricity straight to my clit. He lavished attention on first one breast, then the other, his tongue swirling in patterns that had me writhing beneath him, my legs falling open in silent invitation.
“Look at you,” he murmured, pulling back to admire my flushed skin. “Your nipples are so hard for me. So responsive.” He pinched one lightly, making me arch off the bed. “I bet I could make you come just from playing with these perfect tits.”
“How do you do that?” I asked, my voice already breathless. “Make it feel so...”
“So what?” he prompted, lifting his head to look at me with those impossibly green eyes, dark with desire.
“Intense without being urgent,” I managed. “Like you’re unwrapping something precious but still want to devour it whole.”
His smile was soft and devastating. “Because you are precious,” he said simply. “And I want you to feel it. But I also want to fuck you senseless. I want both—all of you.”
His mouth continued its journey downward, placing open-mouthed kisses along my ribs, my stomach, the sensitive skin just below my navel. Each kiss was a promise, each touch adeclaration. When he reached the apex of my thighs, he paused, looking up at me with hunger blazing in his eyes.
“I want to taste your pussy slowly,” he said, his voice rough with controlled desire. “I want to learn every sound you make when I lick this sweet cunt. I want to feel you come again and again, until you’re begging me to stop.”
“Sean,” I whimpered, my hands fisting in the sheets, my hips lifting in shameless invitation.
He spread my thighs with firm hands, settling between them like he belonged there. The first touch of his tongue was so light I might have imagined it, but the second was more deliberate, tracing the length of my slit with maddening slowness.
“God, you taste incredible,” he murmured against my most sensitive flesh. “Like sin and salvation all at once. So fucking sweet.”
He explored me with the patience of a man who had eternity, his tongue mapping every fold, every sensitive spot, learning what made me gasp and what made me moan. When he finally focused on my clit, it was with the same gentle intensity, building pleasure layer by layer instead of rushing toward the peak.
“That’s it, baby,” he encouraged as I began to rock against his face. “Use my mouth. Show me how you want it.”
The sensations were unlike all the others. It wasn’t the quick, intense climax I was used to—this was something deeper, more profound. Pleasure built in waves, each one higher than the last, until my entire body was humming with it.
“I don’t... I can’t...” I panted, my hands reaching for him, tangling in his hair.
“You can,” he assured me, his fingers joining his mouth,sliding two thick digits inside me with exquisite care. “Let me give this to you, Beth. Let me feel this sweet pussy come all over my face.”
He curled his fingers upward, finding that spot inside me that made stars explode behind my eyelids, while his tongue flattened against my clit, providing firm, relentless pressure.
“Oh god, Sean, I’m going to—” The words dissolved into a cry as my orgasm crashed through me, my inner walls clenching rhythmically around his fingers, my thighs trembling against his shoulders.
But he didn’t stop. He worked me through the aftershocks, his mouth gentling but never leaving me, his fingers still stroking that sensitive spot inside until impossibly, I felt another orgasm building.
“That’s it,” he growled against my flesh. “Give me another one. I want to feel you come again before I fuck you.”
The combination of his filthy words, his talented mouth and his relentless fingers had me spiraling into another climax almost immediately. I screamed his name, my back arching off the bed, my hands clutching desperately at his hair.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful when you come,” he said, crawling up my body, his cock hard and leaking against my thigh. “I could watch you fall apart like that all day.”
He captured my mouth in a searing kiss, letting me taste myself on his tongue. The intimacy of it, combined with the feel of his weight settling between my thighs, had me moaning into his mouth.
