Page 39 of All Your Lies
The sound of a chair scrapes the floor in front of me as his hands push my legs further apart. “Open your legs wider for me, baby.”
I do as he commands. A clinking of ice sounds in a glass, and then his mouth is on me.
“Fuck,” I cry out. The sensation of his mouth on my sensitive flesh is a peculiar mix of burning heat and chilling coldness that collides into euphoria.
As he licks my core, I grind my hips against his eager mouth. His arms wrap around my thighs as he opens my legs even more to feast on me.
I ride his face with long strokes before I scream out my release. My body tingles as the delicious aftershocks of pleasure pulse through me.
He groans. “You taste so fucking good.”
“That was amazing,” I say breathlessly, sounding cheesy as fuck but not caring in the slightest.
He runs his thumb and fingers against my jaw before leaning in and giving me a small kiss on my forehead. “You’re perfect. Let me pull your dress down so we can have dessert.”
“I thought you just had dessert.”
He gives a throaty laugh. “You’re my favorite kind of dessert, but this is for you. Open.”
He places something in my mouth that smells like chocolate. This is going to go down as one of the best nights ever.
I wrap my lips around his fingers, and he groans. The chocolate is velvety smooth, and the ganache melts in my mouth. My mouth is watering the second I swallow the godly dessert.
“Is this chocolate entremet?” I ask in shock, as it’s one of my favorite desserts of all time.
“You like it, baby?”
“It’s delicious.”
He feeds me a couple more bites, and I give a little yawn. Satiated from both the orgasm and the meal.
Strong arms grip under my knees and around my back, effortlessly picking me up and holding me against his hard chest. We walk through the dark room and out of a door that is equally dark on the other side.
“Where are you taking me?”
“Home.”
“Why don’t you ever ask for anything in return?” I thought that was the way things went. Especially in a situation like this. Whatever this is…
“I want many things, but I’m content with what I’m given... for now,” he says as he holds me closer and inhales the scent of my hair.
I’m not sure what he feels like he’s getting when I’m not reciprocating, but I let it be. Too exhausted for the back and forth.
My fingers run along the stone of the necklace that rests between my cleavage.
“You gave me this necklace.”
“I did...”
“Why exactly?”
“You don’t like it?” he asks with a hint of uncertainty.
“No, I love it. It’s just... unique.”
“As are you.”
Whether I want them to or not, those words have a way of filling my heart with a special type of joy. It makes me feel cherished.
