“Won’t I suffocate you?” she worries but lowers until that juicy pussy is resting right on top of my mouth.
“Oh, baby, if only.” I give her one long lick—from her fingers rubbing the top of her pubic bone all the way to her tiny rear rosette.
“Ohhhhh,” she breathes out.
“This pussy is so gorgeous. It’s shaped like one of those white flowers, and every time I push away a fold with my tongue, I find a more tasty delicacy.” I’d tell her more but I’m too busy running my tongue inside her, scooping out her arousal, sucking on each cunt lip and then her clit. I can hear her panting above me, each quickened breath telling me how much she wants this, but even if I couldn’t hear her, I can see the visible evidence of her arousal in how wet she is and how engorged her flesh is. I spear her with my tongue and then lash her clit until she’s thrashing above me and her thighs are clenched against my cheeks. She’s given up fingering herself to grip my hair, alternatingly pulling on my hair and pushing my face closer to her pussy. I love it. I love her fierce touch and her physical exertions. She’s so into this, into me, that she has lost control of her senses and completely let go.
I would rend anyone limb from limb who tried to come between Regan and me. From now on, the only one who will hear her scream when she comes is me. The only man who will get to taste the nectar between her legs is me. The only cock that will ever pleasure her, from this moment until I never draw another breath, is mine.
I eat at her, lapping at her arousal and listening to the sounds of her pleasure as she comes and comes. My arms feel heavy with the desire to touch her, and my dick is pulsing with need, but the promise I made to her is just as effective as bonds. I’d never hurt her, never break my promise to her. Not in this lifetime or the next.
When the last of her orgasm leaves her weak, she collapses against the wall and headboard and then slowly slides down until she’s prostrate on top of me. “Can I hold you?” I whisper against her ear.
“Please,” she says. And my arms band around her so tightly she squeaks.
“Sorry.” I force myself to loosen my hold, but I don’t let go.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
REGAN
Daniel’s hand strokes up and down my back in slow, soothing motions. I’m lying on top of him, my legs spread over his hips, my breasts mashed to his chest, and he’s quietly stroking my back and ignoring the raging hard-on I feel pressed against my pussy. We’re both ignoring it. I suppose sooner or later, it needs to be addressed. Just . . . not right now. I’m feeling too good to think about anything but what we did.
His fingers dance along my spine in a light touch. “Did I break you?” he asks, and I hear a teasing note in his voice.
I laugh a little, but the truth is, I’m feeling a little stunned. That’s the first time I’ve ever been on the receiving end of oral, and it was every bit as good as it had been made out to be. I’d sat on Daniel’s face, and he’d acted like I was giving him a present. I think of Mike and how I’d blown him countless times and how he’d never reciprocated. “I’m not a big fan of pussy,” he’d tell me and complain about the smell, as if I was something diseased instead of his girlfriend. The few times I’d begged him to do more, he’d told me that guys who said they liked eating pussy were liars, and made tuna jokes.
I sit up, a frown on my face as I stare down at Daniel.
“What?” he asks.
“Did you enjoy that?”
His eyes narrow and now he’s frowning, like he’s not entirely sure he understands the question. “Did I enjoy eating your pussy? Wasn’t it obvious?”
“Just answer the question.”
“I could eat that pussy for hours and never get tired of the way you taste,” Daniel tells me, and his fingers skim up my spine again. “Love your honey on my tongue and the way you shiver when I touch your clit. So, yeah, I fucking loved it.”
I tremble a little at the intensity of his gaze. “Sorry. I guess that was a silly question.”
“Not silly,” he says to me.
“Mike didn’t . . . he . . .”
“Can we not talk about Mike when you’re spread on top of me?” His hand stops moving along my spine, and the closed look on his face makes me realize I’ve hurt his feelings.
I need to make this better. So I lie back down on him and curl up against his hard chest, my cheek pressed against his heart. “I’m sorry. Mike’s my only real experience . . . before. And I’m starting to realize now that it wasn’t very good.”