Sheltered(36)

God, didn’t he know how awful it was to have to beg for more?

And he didn’t even stop there either. Just as she’d humiliated herself thoroughly with sounds that seemed frankly inhuman, he moved one hand from her thigh. Stroked over the lips of her pussy with two firm fingers until everything just opened up to him, and then oh no. Oh Lord.

“No don’t do that. No not like that, don’t,” she babbled, but she could tell he wasn’t going to listen. There was too much heat in his eyes, too much wickedness, and though he said something innocent sounding such as like what? he didn’t stop working her open.

Yeah, he knew exactly what he was doing, all right. Every stroke he made around the swollen bead of her clit just exposed everything further, until she could practically make out its exact shape without looking. He’d drawn a line around it, and then once he was done with that torment, he went ahead and started another.

“Oh that’s so rude,” she blurted, without any permission from her higher thought processes. But then, her higher thought processes had left some time ago. They just didn’t know what to make of something so wet and warm and mobile, easing over the whole of her swollen clit.

He didn’t even do it hesitantly either, or maybe just at the side of the place where every nerve in her body seemed to have gathered. He just went for it, licking and licking until her thighs actually shook and her hand went to her mouth.

The latter she couldn’t help any more than the former. There were just too many sounds inside her, too many filthy words she wanted to say, but didn’t yet dare to. If she said them, she’d never be able to take them back. When they next had dinner with each other, there it would be—her, gasping out guttural uhhhs and ahhhs. Maybe with a fuck yeah, lick my clit thrown in there for good measure.

Not that Van seemed to mind. In fact, she suspected he kind of wanted those words between them, over breakfast. And the suspicion grew once he stopped that delicious back and forth over her now completely oversensitized clit to tell her, “Take your hand away from your mouth.”

Of course she immediately wondered if she’d misheard. It was possible, after all. Most of her senses were taken up with the heated, almost tense pleasure gathering throughout her lower body, and those that weren’t couldn’t help feeling a little faint at the sight of him.

His mouth looked wet, as if he’d dipped his face in honey a second earlier—though she supposed he had, really. He’d dipped his face in her, and come up flushed and lust-shocked and probably ready to do just about anything.

Which thrilled her more than the words he repeated, a second later.

“Take your hand away from your mouth, Evie. I want to hear you.”

She’d never seen him be so firm about anything. Not even in his sudden need for the bathroom, or all his talk about taking it slow—though she couldn’t imagine why he wanted this so badly. What did he really think she was going to say? The password to her million dollar trust fund?

She didn’t even have a million dollar trust fund. All she had was babble, about how good it felt even when he wasn’t touching her. She could feel her clit thrumming and thrumming, and the more he made her wait the more she could make out the slow slide of liquid between the cheeks of her ass.

Though of course, neither of those feelings was enough. And apparently, he knew it.

“I tell you what. I’ll lick you again, when you take your hand off your mouth.” He paused, as though for dramatic effect. “How does that sound?”

She knew exactly how that sounded. Like agony. Like torture. He knew he was torturing her, didn’t he? And if that was what this was, why in God’s name did it feel so good?

Just that one word—sound—sent a strong answering pulse through her body. His tongue curled around syllables that weren’t there, like a promise. This is what you’ll get, if you just let me hear.

“I can’t. I can’t. Nothing sensible wants to come out of me.”

“Who says I want sensible?” he asked, and then oh God he licked again. Right over the underside of her clit, so quick and wet it almost stung.

“No—no—”

“If you keep saying no I’m going to think you really want me to stop.”

“Oh Jesus, no—crap. I mean yes. Yes, this is nice, please don’t stop it.”

“This is nice?”

Oh Lord, the expression on his face. Apparently she’d just stepped in the sex talk equivalent of an open sewer.

“Um, okay, I can do better than that. How about—”

She had to stop mid-sentence. Had to. This time when he licked between the folds of her shivering sex he did it quick, one soft lick after another, and then another, until she couldn’t distinguish between each one. There was just a long pulse of pleasure, close to orgasm but not quite there.