Brendon's dark eyes light up as he takes a long look at me. He moves closer. Closer.
Then he's kneeling in front of me.
He pulls my shorts off my feet. His hands close around my thighs, just above my knees.
In one swift motion, he pushes my legs apart. My knees press into the slick leather fabric of the couch. I fall onto the cushion.
Brendon drags his lips up my inner thigh. Closer. Closer. Closer.
There.
His lips brush against me.
My thighs fight his hands. I want more. I want all of him.
But I also want to give myself to him.
I want to be his.
He teases me mercilessly. He blows hot air against my clit. Then cold. Then he's brushing his lips against me. Then it's slow flicks of his tongue, so soft I can barely feel them. He gets every inch of me.
Pleasure builds in my core. I'm ready to overflow, but he's not pushing me toward the edge. He's only building my need.
"Please." I tug at his hair.
Still, he teases me. His tongue stays soft and slow. The pleasure is diffuse. It's everywhere. I feel good in a way that hurts. In a way that begs for release.
"Brendon, please." I press my legs against his hands.
His grip stays firm. He looks up at me, his brown eyes on fire. "You'll come when I say you come, angel."
The edge to his voice makes my sex clench. I can't believe it, but I want him in control of my orgasm.
I can't believe how much I'm willing to give myself to him.
How deeply I trust him.
Still, he teases me. I tug at his hair and press my thighs against his hands. It does nothing to contain how badly I need release. I'm wound up. I'm close. And I desperately need to go over the edge.
It's like he can read me. His motions get harder. Faster. He takes his time ramping up his speed and pressure. The intensity makes it feel like hours pass.
He goes faster.
Harder.
His soft, wet tongue is heaven.
His fingers curl into my thighs as he licks me.
The tension in my sex builds to a crescendo. Almost. So fucking close.
There.
With the next flick of his tongue, I unravel.
I groan. I writhe. I tug his hair hard enough to rip it out.
He holds me in place, still flicking his tongue against me. It's too much pressure. I can't take it.