Page 18 of Pretending with the Mountain Man
"You can touch me," he encourages. "I want you to."
Emboldened, I explore the planes of his chest, feeling muscle shift beneath warm skin. When my fingers brush his nipples, he inhales sharply, and I jerk back.
"Did I hurt you?"
"No, baby. That felt good." He captures my hand, bringing it back to his chest. "See? Your touch affects me too."
The knowledge sends a thrill through me. I'm not just a passive recipient. I have power here too.
"May I?" His hands hover at the waistband of my skirt.
"Yes."
He removes it carefully, leaving me in just my underwear. I fight the urge to cover myself, to hide the curves I've been taught to be ashamed of. But Malik's gaze holds nothing but appreciation and desire.
"Don't," he says when my hands start to move. "Don't hide from me. You're stunning, Melody. Every inch of you."
He guides me to sit on the edge of the bed, then kneels before me. The position reversal surprises me until his hands begin massaging my calves, working up to my thighs with firm, confident strokes.
"Relax," he murmurs. "We have all the time in the world."
His mouth follows his hands, pressing kisses to my knees, my inner thighs, getting closer to where I'm already aching for him. When he hooks his fingers into my underwear, he pauses.
"Can I taste you, baby? I want to make you feel good."
"I've never..." I trail off, embarrassed.
"I know." His voice is gentle. "That's why I'm asking. This is all new, and I want to introduce you to pleasure slowly. But only if you want it."
"I want it," I whisper. "I want everything with you."
He removes my underwear carefully, then spreads my thighs wider. The vulnerability of the position makes me tense.
"Breathe," he instructs. "And remember, you can stop me anytime."
The first touch of his tongue makes me gasp. He starts gentle, exploring, learning what makes me moan versus what makes mesquirm. His hands grip my hips, holding me steady as he works me with increasing confidence.
"Oh God," I breathe, hands fisting in the sheets. "Malik."
"That's it," he murmurs against me. "Let yourself feel it. Don't think, just feel."
The pleasure builds in waves, cresting higher each time his tongue circles my clit. When he slides one finger inside me, slow and careful, I tense at the unfamiliar intrusion.
He stills immediately. "Too much?"
"No. Just... different. Keep going."
He does, adding a second finger gradually while his tongue continues its assault on my senses. The dual sensations overwhelm me, pushing me toward something I've only achieved alone in the dark. But this is different. Bigger. More intense.
"I think I'm going to..." I can't finish the sentence.
"Let go, baby. I've got you."
The orgasm crashes through me with unexpected force. I cry out his name, hips bucking against his mouth as pleasure radiates outward from my core. He works me through it, gentling his movements as I come down.
"Holy shit," I manage when I can breathe again.
He rises, a satisfied smirk on his face. "Good?"
