Page 70 of Meadowsweet and Marigold
Meadow's tongue becomes more insistent, his movements more purposeful.
He's found a rhythm that makes her breath catch, that causes her internal muscles to clench around nothing, seeking fullness. As if reading her mind, he slides one hand higher, a finger teasing at her entrance again, but still not entering.
The promise of penetration hangs between them, adding another layer to the building tension.
Marigold's hands leave his hair to grip the seat beneath her, needing something solid to anchor her as the pleasure builds to nearly unbearable heights. Her hips move of their own accord, rocking against his mouth in tiny, desperate movements. Meadow responds by increasing the pressure, his tongue flicking faster, more precisely.
"Meadow," she gasps, the tension coiling tighter, her body trembling on the precipice. "I'm going to?—"
He hums against her in acknowledgment, the vibration sending a new wave of pleasure crashing through her. His eyes remain open, fixed on her face, watching her come undone.
The intimacy of that gaze —of being so completely seen in this most vulnerable moment — pushes her over the edge.
The orgasm catches her by surprise, not a gradual crest but a sudden, violent breaking. Her back arches off the seat, her thighs clamping around his head as waves of pleasure pulse through her core.
Meadow doesn't let up, his tongue continuing its relentless rhythm, drawing out her climax until she's shaking with overstimulation.
Just as the sensation borders on too much, when she thinks he'll finally relent, Marigold feels a new pressure — his finger, finally breaching her entrance.
The penetration is so unexpected that she cries out, the sound loud in the confined space of the car. Meadow slides onethick finger inside her, then a second, stretching her in a way that walks the exquisite line between pleasure and pain.
"You're so tight," he groans against her thigh, his breath hot on her sensitive skin. "So perfect around my fingers."
He begins to thrust, slowly at first, his fingers curling to find that spot inside her that makes stars explode behind her eyelids.
His mouth returns to her clit, gentler now but still persistent, building her toward another peak she didn't know was possible. The dual sensations —his fingers stretching her, filling her, while his tongue continues its skilled attention to her swollen bundle of nerves— overwhelm her completely.
"I can't," she gasps, though her body contradicts her words, already climbing toward another release. "It's too much."
"You can," Meadow counters, his voice rough with desire. "Give me another, Marigold. I want to feel you come around my fingers."
His pace increases, the thrust of his fingers more insistent now, stretching her, claiming her.
The sound is obscene — the wet slide of his fingers moving in and out of her — but instead of embarrassment, Marigold feels only a primal satisfaction at the evidence of her arousal.
Her inner walls clench around his fingers, drawing him deeper, seeking more.
Meadow's rhythm becomes almost punishing, his fingers driving into her with an intensity that steals her breath. The careful restraint he's shown until now fractures, giving her a glimpse of the raw Alpha beneath—the one who wants to claim, to possess, to mark. His eyes, when they meet hers, burn with a hunger that makes her inner Omega whimper in recognition.
"That's it," he encourages as her body begins to tighten around him again. "Let go for me."
The second orgasm builds differently than the first —not a sudden breaking but a slow, inexorable tide rising within her.
When it finally crests, it consumes her entirely, radiating outward from her core to the very tips of her fingers and toes. She cries out Meadow's name, her voice cracking with the force of her release.
Her inner muscles clamp down on his fingers in rhythmic pulses that seem to go on forever, drawing out pleasure in endless waves.
Sensational.
An out-of-body experience she’s never had with anyone else before him.
It’s mindboggling and yet absolutely amazing.
Making her realize how dangerous addicting these “favors” could become.
As she slowly comes back to herself, her body still trembling with aftershocks, Marigold becomes aware of Meadow watching her with an expression of awe and reverence.
He's pulled back slightly, giving her space to breathe, but his fingers remain inside her, feeling the final flutters of her climax.
