“Oh right there,” I said as his tongue slid side to side. It only took three strokes and heat welled up inside me. My scent was all around, musky. My juices slid down the cheek of my ass.
“That’s it.” I squeezed his hand and held my breath again. I could feel the first spasms. My clit throbbed in anticipation. My hands clung to him and the bed sheet. My legs widened so far they hurt. Again, he switched position.
I whimpered. What was he trying to do to me? I let my breath out, but it came back in a gasp. My clit pounded. My legs shook. I wanted him to get me off with his tongue. That sweet, soft, morsel. Again, he hit my honey pot. I arched in retaliation. Lash after exquisite lash he brought me closer to the awaited climax.
My eyes fluttered open to gaze at him. He was watching me, which only made it harder to control anything. My only thought lie on the throbbing between my legs and the soft laps driving me so close to a common goal: release.
I felt the swell of my vaginal lips. I wanted to come so bad I could taste it. I felt the heat everywhere—from my bare toes up to my taut nipples.
He took charge of my hips with his hands and demanded they follow his lead back and forth. He lashed and licked, pleading with my clit. I was right there. The tremors began; my legs gave out, all my muscles tensed in anticipation.
He sat up.
I wanted to scream, pull his head back down, and demand he finish what he started. I unclenched my fists and tried to control my breathing. I concentrated on the rise and fall of my chest. My skin flushed. Joss watched me regain my composure.
“I want to watch you fuck yourself,” he said, his lips moist with my juices.
I swallowed the moan threatening to spring from my throat. The way he said the word 'fuck' sent a ripple of pleasure through my core.
