He lets out a rough groan and squeezes my thighs harder, opening them wider, his whole body writhing in the bedsheets as he pushes deeper, thrusting his tongue into me until I’m dizzy with it. I buck under him, grabbing at the pillows, at anything, because I’m going to explode if he doesn’t stop. But he doesn’t stop. He goes on and on, moaning into me, eating me, until I can’t hold back the soft, breathy cries that have been building inside me with the pleasure. He fucks me relentlessly with his mouth, his tongue, until he pushes me over the edge.
It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt, not even when I’ve given myself a good one. This one is different, unwillingly almost as he drags it from my helpless body. A rush of wet heat flows from me in a way I’ve never felt, and I cry out, humiliation burning through me even as the orgasm clenches me in its grip. He moans deep in his throat, pushing his tongue deeper even as I cry out wordlessly, not sure if I’m telling him to stop or continue, not sure of anything except the waves of bone deep pleasure and release bearing me away on a current that I know will take me over the edge of the world into the abyss of Royal’s darkness, to be swallowed by his world, his soul-sucking emptiness.
When it ebbs, his mouth is still on me but moving slowly, his tongue lazily answering each pulse of my flesh with one of its own. I want him out, in case he didn’t notice how I came, so much it almost felt like I pissed myself, so much it’s unladylike and humiliating and like everything about me, too fucking much. I made a mess no girl should make, and the shame aches behind my eyes as I wait for the gloating, the degrading taunts. This is Royal. There will be triumphant smirks and bragging that he proved he knows a thing or two about my body after all, followed by scathing words about how I’m a disgusting freak who cums like a man.
He lifts his face at last, his lips shiny, his eyes wild and unfocused. “God, you taste so fucking good, Harper,” he groans, his breath coming as quick as mine. “I want to bite the fuck out of your pussy.”
“No,” I cry, shoving at his forehead.
He unclamps his hands from my aching things, which will surely be bruised to hell tomorrow. Instead of climbing on top of me as I expect, he braces his hands on my inner thighs and spreads them wide, staring down at me with that hazy, transfixed expression. There’s no way he can miss what I did now. When he leans down, I tense, trying to twist away.
“I’m not going to bite you,” he snaps, forcing my legs wide. “Let me lick the cream out of your cunt.” His tongue is gentle this time, slowly winding a spiral of pleasure deeper and deeper into my core as he laps up the mess of cum from my wrecked pussy until I swear even my heart is quivering for him. When I think I can’t take it another second, he slides a long finger into me. “Cum in my hand this time, Cherry Pie,” he murmurs. “I want to feel you gush again.” Then his mouth descends, stroking me toward an edge I know I can’t come back from. This time, I don’t even try. I let him carry me over.
*
When She Comes
When she comes
Mountains tremble
With her cries
With her thighs
Opened wide
Begging me to come inside.
When she comes
Her rains awaken desert blooms and
Oceans turn their tides
To see her arrive
To see the divine
Sunset inside.
When she comes
All the world loses its mind
Setting suns rise
In stormy skies
Stars in velvet night
Forget to shine.
When she comes
I come undone
and tell her the truth:
Wherever you’re going,
Take me with you,
I want to come, too.