I had an inkling Storm did nothing half-assed in the bedroom or otherwise. Before I wondered how many women had been in my position, I shut those thoughts down.
I wanted to relish in this man’s tongue.
My legs were raised over his shoulders, opening the gateway as he lifted me to his face. With one brush of his tongue and a delightful hum, I was writhing on the bed.
Another broad, slow swipe had me squeezing my head between my hands and gasping for air. My core pulsed and clenched, aching to feel him inside me.
“So fuckin’ heavenly, Angel. I can die a happy man after eating the sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted.”
More pulsing, clenching, writhing. His dirty talk drove me crazy with need.
Storm unfolded me, one agonizingly slow lick after another. The tip of his tongue swirled around my clit, rubbing and flicking. He dipped between my folds, moving through them like a lazy stroll in the park. Like he had all the time in the world.
It was too much. Too intense. Too sensual. Not at all feral and rough like I’d imagined it would be.
One. Two. Three swipes. My thighs shook.
Four. Five. Six. My core tightened.
Seven. Eight. He dove into my sex at the same time he pinched my clit between his fingers.
“Yes, Storm! Yes,” I screamed, bucking my hips wildly.
I was close, so close to a monster orgasm. No electronic toys could match what Storm did with precision and ease.
Mercy, the earth shifted in a mammoth explosion. Storm turned feral. Ravenously eating me out with the ferocity of a starved wolf. He bit my clit and sucked on it. I nearly lost my mind. He released it, inserting one finger, then another, and secured my ball of nerves between his thumb and finger.
I moaned and mewed.
Pulling at my hair, wincing from the wicked cocktail of pleasure-pain, pleasure-pain. I never knew how spectacular the mix could be in tandem.
As I reached the crest of my orgasm, Storm launched me into oblivion with an all-consuming, unbelievably slow swipe of his tongue, beginning at the tight rosette between my ass cheeks up to my clit. The sensations pushed me over the edge of ecstasy.
I screamed his name, ripping my orgasm from my core and shattered, digging my nails into his scalp and pushing my pussy into his face.
Storm growled. “Fuck baby. Take it. Take it all.”
Expletives poured from my mouth at rapid-fire. Every variation imaginable of fuck, shit, and Christ littered the ozone while I scratched Storm’s scalp. I held him in place, riding the wave of ultimate pleasure without any regard for him, without any thought of what tomorrow might bring. I was too far gone. Too overwhelmed by his salacious assault.
Storm’s tongue was a weapon, used for the sweetest torture.
And fuck, I was doomed.
Can I keep him?was the last thought to flit through my mind before my eyes rolled back into my head.
16
Storm
I might’ve killed her. Not long after Madeline’s spectacular climax, she’d drifted off into dreamland. My tongue had taken on a life of its own and dominated her. Owned her. I’d fuckin’ lost my mind with this woman. She tasted so damn delicious. Sweet, just as I’d imagined hundreds of times since I’d first smelled her cream at The Bullet.
Fuck, I was proud of myself. That “O” was a horrendous son of a bitch, too.
Only a few women had ever gotten my cockandtongue between their thighs. But if the lady was lucky enough, she only received what I called a five-second sampling.
I couldn’t wrap up my tongue to protect it like I could my dick. Shamefully, not all of the snatch I’d had was the cleanest. What could I say? I only had one-night stands and club whores.
Madeline was unique in every way. She received the epic experience, with no time limit. Her pussy was so addictive, I could’ve feasted on her all night. It was safe to say she was my drug of choice. Never in my life had I devoured a pussy that way.