She lays on her back now, lashes low, watching me with dark, seductive eyes that make my cock throb. Again.
But . . . not yet . . . my mouth is having too much fun. I press my teeth against the tender flesh of her thigh and Sarah’s legs open wider, all on their own. I press a kiss to her soft, full outer lips and a rosy flush springs up on her chest, spreading beneath her skin, all the way down to the tips of her toes.
I was right . . . she does blush everywhere.
I drag my finger up her hot slit and then through her damp brown curls to her clit, rubbing slippery, firm circles. “You’re so wet.” I marvel.
And she hides behind her hands, murmuring, “I know.”
I tug at her wrists and her eyes flutter to me. “Don’t ever, ever be embarrassed about that. It’s beautiful.” I slide the tip of my tongue up and down through her wetness. “Doesn’t it feel beautiful? I love it. It means I get to keep fucking you, sweetheart, for hours and hours . . . for as long as I want.”
Her sweet pussy gets even more slick and I chuckle deep in my chest.
“You definitely like those words, don’t you?”
I take her in the shower. Her hair is longer, darker when it’s wet and the steam from the water dusts Sarah’s flesh with a dewy, glowing sheen. I lift her in my arms, press her back against the cold tile and pump into her in steady, measured strokes. I swivel my hips, rubbing back and forth over her stiffening, needy little clit.
Sarah runs her fingers along my jaw, gazing into my eyes, while her breasts bounce with every thrust. She traces my lips with her thumb and I nibble and suck at her fingertip.
“I love you, Henry,” she says, tenderly but clear. “I just . . . I just love you.”
The words make my knees turn to warm jelly and while her tone doesn’t demand a response—I give her one just the same. “And I love you.”
Then heated pressure streaks down my spine, gathering low in my stomach. Sarah’s orgasm takes her quietly—a simple open-mouth gasp, a clamping of her pussy, driving me into my own release. I push into her one last time, her cheek against the hallow of my throat and mine pressed above her head against the dripping shower tile.
Eventually, we have to eat, and I don’t want to bother the staff with requests or see anyone. So, in the middle of the night Sarah slides into her robe and I put on only my sleeping pants, and we sneak down to the kitchen and forage for food. Then we bring our loot—water, a bottle of wine, a block of cheese, a loaf of fresh bread, and a bag of Cook’s biscuits—back to the room and have a picnic on the bed.
The wine makes us drowsy. She feeds me with her fingers and I lick the crumbs that fall on her lap. And we speak in hushed tones about small things—birthdays and favorites colors—the small shards of information that, while almost insignificant individually, together make up a large piece of a person.
We don’t sleep fully, but steal quick naps in between vigorous rounds of love-making. I rest my head on Sarah’s chest, while she sings soft, bawdy old ballads and runs her fingers through the damp strands of my hair. I can’t get enough of her voice and she’s a bit obsessed with my hair. Other times, she rests on me, limp-limbed and come-drunk, and the only sounds in the room are our synchronized breaths and the matched thrum of our heartbeats.
The sun rises and falls outside the window, but neither of us notice. And I’m not the only one who has fun exploring flesh.
Just after I’ve felt the pulse of Sarah’s orgasm around my fingers, and licked her sweet honey off them for the third time, I’m on my back—and Sarah’s down between my spread knees, putting her mouth to fabulous use.
She nuzzles the delicate skin of my thick cock with her nose.
“It’s so soft,” Sarah purrs, her breath hot against me. “How can it be so soft and hard at the same time?” She licks up and down, getting thoroughly well-acquainted and enjoying herself in the process.
She nibbles at the skin of my thigh, making me jerk. Sarah blows at the hair on my lower stomach, making me laugh. She wraps her lips around the head of my dick, suckling with her mouth and rubbing with her tongue, until there is nothing left in my brain.
She’s sucked every thought straight out.
Then, the sheets rustle as she moves lower and I feel the flat of her tongue, wet and hot, drag up and down the seam of my sac—and it’s so fucking good my heart practically tears away from my body.
“Sarah,” I groan. “Come here.”
She shakes her head, shiny dark hair swaying. “I’m having fun where I am.”
And then she opens that pretty mouth, and uses it to lave and suck on my balls.