He spreads the chocolate across one of my nipples and leans down to suck it off. The chocolate is warm and sticky, and the way he has to work to clean it off my skin has me moaning. I like the way his tongue feels on me. I could have it that way forever.
Everywhere.
My hands are on his shoulders and I’m struggling not to try to force him closer, because that’s not what we agreed, and it’s kind of nice. He knows what I said I wanted, or thought about, and he said he wants that too, but I don’t have to worry if he’s going to do that. There’s something in my mind that eases. Even if he doesn’t take me on the table, I know that Peter is going to take care of me. He’s going to make me feel good. And it’s not something that I’ll ever have to worry about.
It’s like a little thing clicks in my brain. The other night when we talked about it, I couldn’t help feeling guilty, like I was piling all the responsibility for both our pleasure on his head and it was going to be overwhelming. But now, thinking about our history together, it’s always been like this. Peter’s always taken care of me and given me what I needed. Has always somehow known how to get me out of my own head. But he can’t do that if I don’t talk to him. “Oh.”
“Mmm?” The questioning sound vibrates through his mouth and onto my skin as he licks chocolate off my other nipple and sends sparks bounding downward to my pussy.
“I just had a realization, that’s all.”
His mouth is on mine and it’s all chocolate. “Tell me.”
“You always seemed to know what I needed…before. You knew when to calm me down and when to pin me down and distract me. But you did that because we were talking. Or I was talking. Or you saw something that helped you figure out what I needed even if I didn’t say it exactly.”
Peter laughs. “Yes. I’m not a mind reader, and I’ll never be one. But if you talk to me, I’ll always be there to help you. I might not always give you what you want,” he says, “But I’ll do my best to give you what you need.”
It hadn’t seemed fair to me, dumping it all on him. But he was doing it anyway, taking control and helping, I was just getting in the way. Not in the way, I was just making it harder for both of us. A weight falls off my shoulders, and I lean forward, my head on his shoulder, and he hugs me, hands sliding down my back. I’m not dumping some task that he doesn’t want on his head, I’m letting him pick up the slack he already wanted. A task he was already trying to do. It seems so obvious.
“I think I get it now,” I say into his skin. “Even if it still feels weird.” It does. Just because I have a burst of clarity doesn’t mean that it still doesn’t feel strange to me.
Peter weaves his fingers in my hair and guides my head off his shoulder and tilts it back so I’m meeting his gaze. “What do you get?”
“That I’m not forcing this on you.”
“No,” he says, “you’re not. You’re asking me to do this for you, and I’m asking for you to let me.”
“You want it too?”
He smiles, and tightens his fingers in my hair. “I’ve been thinking the past couple of days, too. I had the same realization that you did, that I was already trying to do this, but we didn’t really have the ways to say it. We were quietly letting it happen, but because we didn’t really have the life experience to say it, it wasn’t working as well as it could.”
I shake my head, and he lets my hair go and I reach over to grab another pancake. I kind of interrupted his promised sex and the fact that he was sucking on my nipples with my realization. “This isn’t exactly the conversation I was expecting to have this morning.”
“It’s important though,” he says.
“I never realized how much of this was…that,” I say, not knowing how to label it. My mind keeps flashing to the moments in our past when Peter would cover me with his body, be inside me, and just lay there until I couldn’t think about anything else. He took it out of my hands. Not in a way that was bad or overbearing, just helping me quiet my brain. A brain that always runs too fast for its own good. I get tripped up in my own thoughts and run in circles.
Peter runs a finger through the chocolate again, this time reaching between us and smearing the warm chocolate across my clit. I gasp, suddenly I’m dripping, both chocolate and arousal. He kneels down and licks into me, and my mind goes perfectly, deliciously blank. His tongue swirls around my clit, searching for every last little bit of chocolate, and by the time he’s done, I’m thoroughly gasping, with my fingers in his hair. More. I need more, and he gives it to me, pushing his tongue into my pussy and fucking it until I’m squirming on the counter. But it’s not enough, and he pulls back with a grin. “Just like that.”