Witch(54)

I felt the tip of his tongue trail over the flat of my stomach, then he paused to breathe over that little wet trail he had left behind. My skin tingled, my stomach muscles tightened. With his hands, Vincent started to trace tiny circles on the tops of my thighs as he worked the tip of his tongue over my tiny patch of hair. I eased my legs slightly apart, just enough. Vincent sensed this, and with his fingertips still making skin-tingling circles now on the insides of my thighs, I felt the tip of his tongue roll gently down between my legs.

I sighed, and arching my back, I opened my legs just a little more. Vincent took advantage of this, and I felt the tip of his tongue enter me. I gripped the bed sheets with my fists. He moved his tongue slowly, almost deliberately, as if not wanting to rush, to savour and enjoy every moment. Not wanting it to end. Letting go of the sheets, I ran my fingers through his short, black hair.

Vincent slowly withdrew his tongue and I groaned out loud. He brushed the tip of it over the inside of my right thigh, down the inside of my leg, my calf muscle, and then over the top of my foot. It was as if he didn’t want to leave one part of my body untouched by him. No man had ever spent this much time caressing my body before. Gently, he rolled me onto my front, my hair spilling down my back. I felt Vincent’s mouth again as he worked his way back up the length of my body, his tongue leaving a cool damp trail behind him. My flesh prickled with rising excitement as he covered my arse in kisses. Slowly, he slipped his fingers between my buttocks and between my legs. The tips of his fingers gently stroking the place where, minutes before, his tongue had been exploring. I pressed my face into the pillow to muffle my sighs of pleasure, as I felt his fingers slide slowly inside of me. He eased them in and out, the crown of his thumb making circular motions against my clit. He worked his thumb slowly, as if understanding how sensitive that part of my body was. Vincent knew how much pleasure he could bring me by touching me there. While he massaged me with his fingers, he leaned over and covered my back, shoulder, and neck with kisses. I turned my face against the pillow so I could see him. His face was just inches from mine. Not wanting to break the growing sensation he was building with his hand between my legs, I twisted my shoulders slightly, so my face was fully turned towards his. We kissed. His lips were firm but somehow still soft against mine. Vincent ran his tongue over my mouth, then slipped it gently between my lips. I could taste myself on him, and it excited me. With a gradual but ever-growing speed, Vincent continued to move his thumb in that circular motion as his fingers slid faster and faster inside of me.

A well of heat spread out from my stomach, warming every part of me. The music continued to play in the background as my heartbeat sped up, my fingertips and toes tingling with growing pleasure. With the heat, wetness, and feeling of unimaginable pleasure growing deep within me and between my legs, it became so consuming, that I had to break our kiss. I buried my face in the pillow again as every muscle in my body locked tight. The feeling of sexual pleasure was like nothing I had felt before, and I tried to hold onto it for as long as I could, my skin feeling as if it had been set alight. Suddenly, my body gave way to a series of turbulent spasms which rippled throughout me.

I screamed out, my back arching, drawing myself up onto my knees as I trembled and shook on all fours.

“Vincent!” I cried out. “Please don’t stop.”

With my body still reeling from the aftershock of the orgasm that I’d had, Vincent rolled me onto my back, and pushed himself into me.

I cried out again, throwing my head back and arching my body so he could push himself deeper into me. Vincent groaned. Dropping onto his elbows, my legs locked around his back, he looked down into my face and said, “I never want this to end, Sydney. I want to stay locked inside of you forever.”

Looking up into his face, I wanted to tell him I loved him, but that was just stupid, right? I couldn’t be in love with him. Wasn’t I just in love with what he was doing to me? The music filtered in from the other room.

...I want to know what love is...I want you to show me...the song played all around us like a wall of sound, shutting the rest of the world out. It felt like it was only us who were truly alive at that moment in time. I didn’t want to share it with anyone else other than Vincent.

Maybe the intense feeling I was sharing with him was love? I’d certainly never felt anything like this before. It was more than just lust, that needing, yearning to come – it felt deeper than that with Vincent. I felt a deep, overwhelming happiness inside, as strong as the feelings of sexual ecstasy which had just torn through me. Was it such a deep sense of happiness, love? If it was truly love, it was the first time in my life I had felt it. I couldn’t tell Vincent that, however much I wanted to. I was too scared.