Page 79 of Wilt

I dot the sauce on her mouth, applying it just so. The great thing about a work of art like Rose is the dismantling. That sauce on her mouth calls to me. I finally let my resolve slip and I kiss her, licking off the caramel, pushing my tongue into her mouth so she can taste the sweetness too.

Once her mouth is clean, I take her lips again, long and slow and deep. Charged. I could spend a small forever kissing her, but I steel myself. I lift my head and look down. Her eyes flutter open, and I trace the shape of her lips with my finger as she moans in earnest now. “Hungry?”

She nods, and I’m not sure if she means the dessert or me. It doesn’t matter. She’ll be getting both.

I pick up the other serving and feed it to her, occasionally licking her stomach for mine. The mix of salty sweetness, the creaminess, and the particular brand of delicious that is her skin is the most evocative thing. It’s almost right up there with her mouth. With her cunt. Almost. When she’s finished eating, I kiss her again to make sure her mouth is clean.

“My turn. And Rose?” She looks at me. “Don’t come. Hold it off.”

I don’t wait for her to respond. I don’t need to.

I start with her breasts, eating and licking and kissing her with exquisite bites. Her nipples are so fucking hard, they could cut ice, and I suckle them as she makes stuttering noises, like she’s trying not to come.

“Good girl,” I praise, blowing on her nipple. Then I run my knuckles over her, cleaning up any tiny bits with my mouth.

My real dessert is there, so pretty and all dressed up for me to eat. That cunt is magic, and it’s mine.

I take my time eating my dessert. Her taste is perfect with it. Before, tasting her breasts, stomach, lips, all the places the dessert sat on her skin, yeah… evocative. This?

Fucking sublime.

Perfection.

I crave more. I crave it all.

She whimpers as I lick her pussy hard with the flat of my tongue, dipping inside because I want to. Have to. Then I move to her lips, inner, outer, her thighs, up to her clit.

I take it in my mouth and suck the swollen nub, owning it. She’s writhing now, talking to herself to keep her orgasm at bay. Her hips keep lifting, but she hasn’t come.

Good girl.

I’ve eaten all the panna cotta, the sauce, I’ve eaten the fuck out of her, and I keep going, even though I’ve licked her clean. She’s just heaven.

“Please, please,pleaseoh, God. Please let me come. Please, Nikolai. I’ll do anything. I need you. Please. Nikolai!”

I lift my head. My beautiful Rose is red from her head to her toes, her eyes squeezed shut. She’s a gorgeous mess of words and moves and damnit, I’m fucking aching, too.

Chapter27

Rosalind

“Rose.”

He says my name like it’s a personal prayer as he lays me on his bed. Nikolai’s touch is infinitely gentle, his eyes glittering.

All I can see is him in the flickering candlelight, dancing gold and shadows across him, my hands spreading out on the crisp, white sheets.

He’s so handsome, so masculine. Beautiful.

The candlelight doesn’t soften the hardness to him, though; that’s a part of him that will always be there. Instead, it brings out the multitudes of him, his layers. Fuck, I want him.

I never don’t want him, not since… maybe since he kissed me that very first time. I want him now with an almost desperation.

I want it all, and I want to touch. It burns hot in me, that urge.

“Relax, Rose. Nothing will happen that you don’t want.”

I don’t know why, but his words somehow both calm and terrify me. Perhaps it’s because he’s handing me some power that I don’t know what to do with. “Nikolai, I…”

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