Page 44 of Beneath the Desert Bloom
He moved like he wanted to stay inside her forever.
He curled his tongue slightly as it slid in and out, rhythmic now, filling her, pressing against places no human tongue could have reached. Slow. Sinful. Precise.
Her back arched, hips lifting again to meet him. She was already soaked, already clenching, and the way his ridges brushed her walls with every thrust was too much. It was not enough.
He reached for her breast again, holding her with his whole palm like she was something divine. His thumb rolled over her nipple in circles, slow and steady. It sent new shocks of heat shooting through her, all the way down her spine.
Nora whimpered. She couldn’t keep still.
Her muscles kept clenching, trying to pull him deeper, and he let her. He let her fuck his tongue, let her use his mouth to chase something she didn’t have words for.
He groaned again, louder.
And she realized—he liked this.
He wasn’t doing it to please her.
He was consumed by it.
By her.
He wanted this as much as she did.
She felt herself unraveling again.
Not just physically, but spiritually.
Like something deep in her chest was coming loose. Like the part of her that had been waiting, aching, denying, was finally saying yes.
His tongue moved faster now, focused on pressure and rhythm. Her clit throbbed with each movement, her breastsensitive under his rough thumb, pleasure blooming outward like light through cracked stone.
She arched with a strangled moan. Her fingers tangled in the cushion. Her other hand flew to his hair, moss-soft and sun-warmed, coarse in places like bark, impossibly alive. She tugged, not to move him, just to stay grounded.
Pressure built, fast and sharp and impossible. Like her body was splitting apart, flooded from the inside. She was shaking again.
“Oh my god,” she whispered. “I can’t—I’m gonna—”
He groaned again. She felt it inside her.
His tongue twisted. Curled. And hit the spot.
“Ooooh fuck—”
Her body spasmed. Her orgasm crashed through her in waves, longer and deeper this time. Her nipple caught between his fingers. His tongue pushed in deep again as she clenched around it, her toes curling, her chest arching toward the ceiling. She sobbed through it, legs fluttering around his head, body twisting in his hands.
He didn’t pull away. He held her through it, tongue slowing, then stopping, milking every last clench from her pussy. His thumb still stroking her breast, he moaned softly, enjoying it as she broke open around him.
Nora collapsed back into the couch, chest heaving. Her eyes unfocused. The sound of her blood still pounding in her ears.
She couldn’t feel her toes.
She couldn’t think.
All she could feel was him, inside her, around her, under her skin.
And still, she wanted more.
She blinked down at him.
