Page 29 of His Little Sapphire

She squeals and shoves at me, but the prick only lasts a second, and now I’m flicking her pretty nipple with my tongue, waiting for her to switch from defiant to…Yes. Moaning.

“Papi…” Her voice is lower. Her head tips back. She stops fighting me. In fact, she grabs my shoulders.

I release her nipple and slowly lower her down my body until we’re face to face. Her expression is stunned and aroused. Her gaze is glassy. This is the first time I’ve pricked her since we arrived. I wanted her to be fully in control of her body first.

I hadn’t meant to start with her nipple, but it happened, and here we are. After searching her gaze, I kiss her, claim her with my lips so fully that she wraps her arms and legs around me and moans into my mouth.

I’m not playing fair. I know it. But I’ve missed her so badly. I barely had her for an hour before I lost her for six months. I want her back. I want more. I want her in my bed. I want my face between her legs. I want to stretch out her pussy and claim her fully.

The way she’s returning my kiss tells me she wants that too. Or at least she thinks she does because she’s under the influence of my serum. That’s okay. It’s our way.

I nip her lips with my teeth, making her gasp. She’s probably worried I might prick them. I could, but I won’t. Not right now. She doesn’t need more of my serum right now. The slight puncture to her nipple was enough to remind her what it’s like between us when I nick her.

I want more. I want it so badly. My cock is hard. I won’t take more than I should right now, but I will enjoy what happens to my Little girl’s body when I make her writhe.

I suck on her bottom lip until she’s panting, and then I slide my tongue into her mouth to dance with hers while I carry her to my bedroom. She hardly knows what’s happening as I lay her on her back, hovering over her.

Her legs are still wrapped around my waist. Her arms are clinging to my neck. I love her so much.

Finally I release her lips and kiss a heated path to her breasts. Her fingers slide into my hair as I grip her sides with both hands and hold her body. I suck one of her breasts into my mouth, loving the way she moans and arches.

Her fingers dig into my scalp. I can feel her heart beating fast. I can smell her arousal. It’s pouring out of her and not caused by the one small nick. This is all her now.

I slide one hand down to remove her diaper without releasing her nipple, and then she’s naked, splayed out for me. Panting and hot and needy. Writhing. My name slips from her lips over and over. “Papi… Oh, heavens, Papi.”

I grab her thighs and part them, pressing them wide before I switch from tormenting her nipple to tormenting her clit. I change from one to the other so fast that she cries out. Music. Gorgeous.

I suck and flick her clit before thrusting my tongue into her tight pussy. I need this. I need her more than I need oxygen. I’ve needed her for months. I’m desperate and greedy. Taking. Licking. Lapping. Tasting. Devouring.

She’s writhing, begging, crying out, arching. She needs this too.

Finally, she screams as her orgasm consumes her. The pulsing of her clit against my mouth makes me want to feel inside her, so I thrust my tongue as deep as I can to allow the contractions to grip my tongue too.

Fuck, she’s tight. So damn tight. I haven’t done a thing to prepare her for my cock yet. While she’s still in the moment, I replace my tongue with two fingers, pushing deep, stretching her as wide as those two digits can.

She surprises me when she comes again, her tight channel gripping my fingers hard, holding on to them, sucking them into her body. She’s squirming so hard it’s difficult to keep her where I want her. I don’t want to bruise her with my fingers on her thighs, but I want her to take her pleasure. I want her to experience this type of release over and over every day of her life until she believes it’s love. Pure and perfect and clean and meant to be.

I hate that she spent her first twenty-five years being told sex is wrong and dirty and only for procreation. It’s not. It’s a gift. It’s something we will share every day.

I want my Little girl to come to me eager and willing and hot. Needy and desperate. I don’t care if it makes her blush as long as she does it anyway and believes she should.

When she calms and stops struggling, I lift my head to look at her face. She’s sated, smiling slightly. Her body has melted into the mattress. Her hands are no longer on me. They’re at her sides, resting against the covers.

I release her thighs, but she doesn’t move to close them. She leaves them open for me.

I lick her juices off my fingers as I slide up her body to hover over her, eye to eye.

She smiles at me, and it stops my heart. “You don’t play fair.”

I chuckle. “Never, but that was mostly you. You can’t blame my tiny prick on all that writhing and moaning.”

Her cheeks turn a darker pink. “I’m so naughty.”

I laugh. “If that’s the kind of naughty you want to be, I won’t stand in your way. As long as you aren’t the kind of naughty that will land you in the corner with a sore bottom.”

She draws in a deep breath, sobering, her expression switching to a serious one. “I’m not the sort of naughty person who has sex with men.”

I nod. “Good. You’ll only be having sex with one man. Surely your compound didn’t frown upon you having sex in a committed relationship?”

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