“If you’re good,” Asher said, pausing to caress his tongue from the bottom of my slit up to my clit, lingering, “I’ll give you what you want.”
“I think I was good last night!” I said, exasperated and horny.
He laughed. “What do you mean you were good? You wouldn’t stop trying to make me have sex with you.”
“You want to do it, too!”
“That’s besides the point. I can be patient. There’s no need to rush things.”
He went back to the task at hand, slowly teasing his tongue across my slick folds. He lapped up my arousal, tasting it with the tip of his tongue. This was worse than yesterday when he’d fingered me and told me to relax and chastised me for writhing and bucking my hips against his hand. This was…
His tongue flicked against my clit, hard and fast but gone so soon, like a gentle tap from the end of a whip. I wanted to scream, but instead I tried to remain calm and “good,” as he said. Relatively, anyways, but I still couldn’t help but struggle against the silken shirt binding me to the headboard.
“How long?” I asked.
“Hm?” he said, looking up at me.
“How long do I have to be good before you’ll stop this?”
“Oh, you want me to stop? If you really do, I’ll go downstairs and make breakfast. I can bring it up to you when I’m done. I can’t untie you, though, because I’d rather you didn’t masturbate while I’m gone. Not right now, at least.”
He said it so simply, so matter-of-factly. I couldn’t let this happen!
“No!” I shook my head, fast. “No, no. I don’t want you to leave or stop, but I want you. Inside me. I…”
“Say it,” he said.
“Asher…” I whimpered.
“We’re both adults here, Jessika. If you want something, you need to let me know.”
It made sense, and yet… I remembered Beatrice the other day, and the conversation I overheard while she talked with Solomon on the phone. Their dirty, raunchy sex talk, and… ugh, the thoughts of it. And yet… this was different, too.
I sighed. Slow, deliberate, I said, “I want your long, hard cock deep inside…”
“Yes?” he asked, prompting me further.
“Deep…” I hesitated, but Asher goaded me further with a compelling lick from his tongue. “I want your long, hard cock deep inside my pussy,” I said, embarrassed, rushing the words out in one hasty breath.
“Sixty seconds,” he said. “If you remain calm and still for one minute, I’ll do everything you want.”
“I want to be on top,” I said quickly.
Asher lifted one brow, smirking. “Alright. Deal.”
I endured. Asher licked at my folds, languorous and with no real goal in mind. He liked to tease me, it seemed, and watch me squirm, but, oh no, I wouldn’t give him the joy of it. I counted down the seconds in my head, being generous with my estimation.
He circled his tongue around my clit, then just barely teased at the hood and the center of my pleasure spot. I bit my lower lip, focusing on the the numbers and counting and praying that the slightest twitch from my leg didn’t count against me.
Halfway to my goal, Asher grew more frantic. Not much, nothing over the top, but he licked in longer strokes, flattening his tongue and touching more of me all at once. This was cheating or something, and I wanted to yell that out to him, but then what? He’d make me start all over again, probably! Argh.
With ten seconds left, Asher abandoned his initial plan. He kept his tongue on me, tempting me, but he added two fingers. Probing inside me, slow at first but picking up speed, he played with me like some fascinating toy. My God, if he just let me, I’d happily let him wind me up and watch me bounce around the room(or on top of him, as it were), but I doubted he’d accept that offer so easily.
Five seconds. Deeper. Three seconds. His fingertips tweaked at my g-spot. One second. He never relented and was one-hundred percent trying to make me lose this game.
Except now it was over. “I won!” I shrieked. At that same moment, Asher must have decided the exact same thing.
This time he didn’t tease me, but was full-on coaxing me to orgasm. In my desperate attempt at staving off my pleasure, I didn’t realize how pent up I was. Or, I’d realized it, but I really really needed to forget about it and play his game or I knew he’d keep teasing me forever. But, now? Oh, no, I’d won alright.
I thrashed on the bed against Asher’s mouth. He had a smug, annoyingly attractive look on his face, like he thought he’d won this game instead of me. Maybe in a way he had, or perhaps we both did. I didn’t quite care at the moment.