I’m not sure who he’s speaking to: me or my pussy.
“You’re not alone,” I whisper, afraid to break the moment. My fingers embed themselves in his hair and hold him to me, pulling as I beg for more. “I need you.”
“Motherfuck.” Rough hands pull the button of my pants, breaking it clean off. The metal clangs somewhere to the right, but I don’t look away from the man kneeling before me. He’s determined. Hungry.
You’ve never done this before. He needs to know that.
“Jet, I need to—”
“Want you riding my tongue. Your juices coating my chin, baby.” Jet pulls my leg down and wiggles my pants off my hips and toward my knees. His eyes are on my pussy. On the visible wet patch at the center of my panties. “Give it to me. Please, Camille. Let me taste you.”
“Oh God,” I moan out as he pulls my panties aside and his next exhale caresses my sensitive clit. It swells for him. Every cell in my body vibrates in anticipation.
Mouth almost touching my wet flesh, he looks deep into my eyes. “From now on, you pray to me. Say my name.” And then he buries his face between my thighs. Licking. Sucking. Biting the very top of my mound before taking my clit between his teeth and flicking his tongue out.
It’s not gentle. He’s eating me like a man possessed the lower he goes.
It’s as if he’s memorizing my pussy—marking every inch as he descends toward my opening. The very tip of his tongue presses against my entrance, caresses the small hole, and the tight rope I’ve been holding on to snaps. It’s sudden. Near blinding, and I rub myself against his face as I come.
“Jet!” I scream as the sudden rush of pure pleasure courses through my body, setting me on fire. This feeling is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before. Nothing compares. Not even the few times I came by my own hand, those felt mediocre at best compared to this.
“More. Give me every last fucking drop,” he demands and presses his tongue deeper while his hands anchor me to the door, holding me up while I ride out my release. His face is drenched in my juices, and I have the urge to taste myself on him.
To mix his taste with my own.
With my fingers still in his hair, I pull hard and force him to stand. His stare is angry—wild. “Kiss me, Jet. These lips want to thank you.”
At once, his face softens and he gives me a quick peck. A tiny taste and I moan, blush at my wanton behavior. “Why are you thanking me, love? That was all my pleasure.”
Standing on the tip of my toes, I nip his bottom lip. “That was a first for me. I’ve never done anything like that before.”
His body goes rigid as my words seep in. “What? Please repeat that.”
“That was the first time—”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” He flips our positions and pulls back, his expression hard as he runs a hand down his face. “Why would you let me touch you like that? Take liberties that aren’t mine?”
“I don’t regret it. I wanted that with you,” I say softly, trying to control my emotions. To swallow past the lump that suddenly resides in my throat. “Only you.”
“It was a mistake. A huge one.”
“Please don’t say that,” I choke out, a tear falling. Wiping it away, I stare deep into his now cold eyes. “You can’t mean that.”
“I do.” Turning around, he grabs the doorknob and turns it, opening it just enough to take a step out, and pauses. “Get dressed and go home, Camille. We’re done here.”
With that, he walks out and leaves my heart broken into a million and one pieces.