I think about the shower, my fantasies. My inability to force him out of my head, even when I was mad at him, even when I thought he did this, or thought he was lying to me. He was, I guess, but I understand his reasons.
“I can’t stop thinking about you either,” I whisper.
“I get hard every time I remember how gorgeous your body is, how beautiful you look spread out before me like this…” He leans in to lick his tongue across my mound for emphasis, and I gasp, biting down on my lip.
“I have to touch myself whenever I think about what you did to me this weekend,” I admit, my voice low, soft. “When I think about that hour when you commanded me…”
“Or when I think about the way you moaned so loud and desperately, with my cock inside your ass…” He stands, so I can see the hard bulge in his pants, the way he strains for me.
“Nobody has ever made me come the way you do, Zayne,” I admit.
He smiles. “Nobody has ever made me want to fuck them for hours and hours the way you do…” He trails his finger up my slit, through the wet juices already gathering there, and then pops it straight into his mouth, licking my juices with a hungry glow in his eyes.
“I feel like I’m going crazy.” I brace myself against his shoulders, both hands gripping him tight. “How can I feel like this for you so fast?”
“Because I was always there, Clove. Waiting for you to see me under the uniform. We haven’t known each other long, but we’ve been standing right in each other’s paths for years.”
He’s right. I may not have known him well, but Zayne has been in my life for a long, long time. No wonder it feels right, now that I’m realizing how much more in my life he needed to be. How deeply involved in my life he should have been from the start.
“Let me make you feel good, Clove. Let me take your mind off all of this…”
He kneels in front of me again, but it feels different this time, charged somehow. Like he’s not just touching me, tasting me, but feeling me too. He wants to give me pleasure, doing it gives him pleasure, and knowing that only turns me on even more. This isn’t just a hookup. It can’t be. Not when it feels like this.
Zayne spreads my legs, hands wrapped around my ankles, and kisses his way along my inner thigh. I close my eyes and shiver, savoring the feeling of his rough stubble as it grazes against my sensitive skin, right at my hipbone. He takes his time, the way he always does. I love that about him, the way he’s so careful with me, so precise. He makes sure that I’m aching, about to burst before he gives me what I want. I never knew denial could be so hot, or that making me wait could make me so much hungrier for him when he finally gives me what I need.
When his tongue delves into my slit, I clench my fist in his hair and arc my back, leaning backward along the kitchen counter. He pushes his tongue inside me slowly, circling, tasting each of my walls as he enters me.
“Zayne,” I gasp, my hands clenching and releasing in his hair of their own accord. He always does this—makes me lose control of my limbs, my hands, my own body.
I can feel the curl of his lips as he smiles against me, but he doesn’t reply, just keeps licking me, inside me. He eats me like a starving man, like I’m the only meal he’s had in months. He grips my ass with one hand, lifts my pussy closer to his mouth, and I can feel his stubble scratch across my inner thighs, graze the edges of my lips as he forces his tongue as deep inside me as possible.
At the same time, I feel his other hand slide up my thigh too, until he’s stroking his forefinger along my slit. I don’t realize what he’s doing, don’t notice how he’s coating his finger in my juices, until he presses the tip of that finger against the tight pucker of my ass.
I cry out as he presses his finger into my ass, slowly and deliberately. The sudden tight, full feeling is doubled, because I clench my pussy in response, and feel his tongue press back against me, the flat plane of his tongue caught between my walls. My head falls back against the counter, my body too distracted by the conflicting sensations—the fullness from every angle.
He starts to move his finger, sliding it deeper into my ass, then drawing it out again slowly. At the same time, he continues to lick into my pussy, his tongue curling to drag against my front inner wall. I thought I felt wild before, but this pushes me to a new limit. I twist against the counter, the hard marble cool against my ass, another contrast to the white-hot heat pouring from Zayne’s mouth, his finger inside my ass, his whole body.