The Siren's Song

Chapter 115- challenge accepted

(Y/N) POV:

There's no rush yet there's also no slowness, there's no ease and fluidity but there's no fumbles either. There's only a naturalness seeping into every movement, every touch and the slow trail of lips slowly working their way upwards; brushing gently against skin in featherlight exploration only to sink his fingers into flesh, to keep my thighs pinned open as he torturously slow sinks his teeth in and closes his lips to suck purple and red into skin, to leave a physical trail to map the journey his body takes before centring over the apex of my thighs.

There's curiosity. Slowly learning exactly what makes my breath hitch, what makes my legs try to clamp around his head, what makes my back arch as his breath ghosts along my centre, his fingers slowly trailing inwards, sinking them in and letting me adjust before they're curling and twisting, drawing in and out in slow thrusts that sink back in with harsh, rough purpose. There's exhilarated delirium in the contrasting rough and gentleness of his touch, voice a low husky groan lacing together breathlessness in his words as he explores every line and curve of my body; the twist and thrust of his fingers harsh and quick and the teasing flick of his tongue chasing to taste my arousal slow and indulgent.

There's tease in the way his eyes reflect his amusement, his pleasure in toying and drawing out pleasure with the crooked beckon of his fingers and the curling thrust of his tongue, hand pinning my thigh open, moving up to rest heavily against my stomach, keeping my hips from bucking and twisting away, his name breathlessly spilled over and over from my tongue as my hands grasp for purchase, entangling tightly with his hair and tugging, crying out when his head dips lower, chasing to coax more, the futile attempts to gain reprieve, to gain a moment's breath that wasn't shuddering and saturated with need. Hand slipping away to fist at the sheets, slipping from my grip as I tug and arch, keening at the onslaught of pleasure rapidly mounting, mercilessly engulfing my limbs in its scorching heat that has sparks searing with every fleeting touch and igniting pools of heat where he lingers, where his body leaves its imprint on mine, the wide sprawl of his arm and the pinning grip of his palm.

"Thought... you were going to be my undoing." He shudders, voice rough and raspy, just as affected, plunging deeper with its huskiness, reverberating against skin where he lets slick lips graze against the inside of my thigh and suck marks into soft, sensitive skin, hips bucking up to twist from the blissful agony of pleasure making my body fall apart, the pressure winding tighter and tighter until it snaps.

Pleasure seeping into every crevice of my body, throat bobbing for breath as my back arches off the sheets, his name tumbling past my mouth in a keening plea. Whether that's for more, for him to stop, for him I don't know—body wracked with jolts and trembling shudders, his tongue and fingers continuing to prolong the waves of pleasure before he slowly withdraws the touch.

Leaves arousal smeared across my skin, pupils dilated and skin flushed as he hovers over me, his hips rutting against the sheets for a modicum of relief, broad arms caging me in, settled on either side of my hips as he lets burning lips trail across my abdomen upwards; tongue heated as it flicks against the aching nubs hardened to points by the stimulation of his fingers rolling and tugging, teeth scraping in a way that has hot white pleasure-pain lancing through my body, arching into the touch, breathing raggedly until his lips skim across my collarbones, my throat, my jaw. Trailing upwards steadily until my lips are turning to chase his, groaning against his mouth, hands snaking around to wind around his nape, legs locking around him; still feeling the trembles wracking them as I coax him down towards me.

His weight settles on me, pins me to the sheets and grinds his hips down against me, a messy, rough thrust that has my hips jerking upwards.

His breath shudders against my skin, rough rasps of breath as his body cages mine and cradles it simultaneously, hands skimming across skin with feverish, increasingly hurried intent.