Forget Me Not

My eyes flutter open when he speaks and I nod my head, knowing that whatever he suggests, I’ll be up for.

“Strip.” His voice is dark and sinful and has a direct line to my clit which pulses in response to his command.

I slide my panties down my legs, tossing them to the floor, followed by his t-shirt leaving me completely nude.

“Lie back,” he says and I oblige, propping myself up on my elbows so I can see what he’s planning to do. It wouldn’t be the first time he ate my pussy on our island, but the look in his eyes lets me know this might be slightly different.

My eyes widen when he grabs the small bowl that he’d heated the syrup in and pours it on my skin from my chest down to the top of my mound. The feeling is warm and sexy and sticky as hell but I can’t escape the immediate flood between my legs at the idea of what he’s about to do.

Bennett has an obsession with tasting me. He’d told me once that my skin always tasted like vanilla and he wanted to spend the rest of his life with my sweetness on his tongue.

I melted.

His tongue sweeps out as he hovers over me, and rubs his tongue across my lips once. I open my mouth, and my tongue shoots out towards his preparing to welcome him but he shakes his head before pulling back. “Naughty girl.”

His lips find my chin and down my neck before I feel the wet muscle at the space between my breasts. I feel his beard rubbing against them as he sucks and licks the syrup from my skin and my body hums with pleasure. I try to press my legs together to relieve some of the ache when his hands find my thighs to hold them down. “I want to smell how wet I make you. I want them spread,” he growls.

“Fuck, Clarke.” I moan as he continues his trail down my body collecting the syrup but leaving a trail of his saliva in his wake. My body is on fire, desperate for any kind of relief from the pleasurable pain that burns from the outside in. “Please.”

He gets to the top of my mound, pressing a kiss there and spreading my lips open in preparation to devour me. “Livi.” I watch him stick his fingers in his mouth to wet them. He slides his tongue between his index and middle finger lasciviously as a sign of what I’m in for before shooting me a wink that takes all the air from my lungs.

My husband is walking sex.

“Clarke,” I whimper, dying for the feeling of his tongue or fingers or anything rubbing against my clit when I hear him call for me again.

“Livi.”

“Mmmm.” I let out a moan just as his two fingers make contact with my swollen bundle of nerves. The syrup and his spit and my natural wetness make for a slippery concoction, making my sex slicker than usual.

“Olivia, look at me, baby.” I can’t even force my eyes open in this moment, I’m too turned on and far gone, my body floating out of my body and hovering above us, watching this sinful display.

“Olivia…” I open my mouth in response, but nothing comes out.

“Olivia?” My eyes pop open but when I look down, he’s not there.

“Olivia?”

I blink several times, trying to clear my head of the sexy memory before turning to Bennett. “Sorry…what did you say?” I bite my lip, feeling embarrassed that he caught me having a fantasy about him. Fuck.

“Are you okay?” His hand finds my cheek as he turns my face to look at him. “You keep spacing out on me.”

“No…I…I was just thinking about something.” I clear my throat. “Something I need to do for work.” I pull away from his grasp and push my plate away instantly, suddenly not wanting to even think about pancakes or syrup or syrup dripping out of my pussy that Bennett caught with his fucking tongue.

I need to get away from this man.

I get up, deciding now is the best time to get that coffee. I keep my back turned as I make it, my shoulders feeling like they’re up around my ears with how tense I am when I feel him at my back. His hands dart out to either side of me, boxing me in and I wish he’d just give me some space because I feel like I can’t breathe.

“Were you thinking about the time I licked the whipped cream from the pancakes off of you? Because I was,” he growls in my ear before biting it gently. “That time I sprayed it down your body and licked up every bit. Especially between your legs.” He presses against me harder. “Although, whipped cream doesn’t have anything on the taste of your cunt.” Bennett Clarke is a notorious dirty talker. Phone sex with him is undeniably one of the most erotic experiences of my life, and the texts he used to send me when we were apart were some of the dirtiest things I’d ever read.

I spin in his arms. “It wasn’t whipped cream it was syrup and…” I bite my bottom lip at the cheeky look he’s giving me, having been caught fantasizing about exactly what he thought.

He leans forward and uses his thumb to pull my bottom lip from between my teeth causing a bolt of lightning to shoot through my body. “There was an instance with whipped cream too.” He winks before making his way back to the island. My shoulders sag and my heart, which was racing, begins to slow now that he’s no longer in my space, but nothing is lessening the dull roar between my legs. I clench, doing my best to stop the pulsing but it seems to only exacerbate the ache.

Holy fuck, I need to come.

I start towards my room when I realize that I can’t exactly dart to my room, masturbate, and emerge from my room like nothing happened. I need a reason to be alone in my room and I would have to be quiet. Which means no vibrator because even the quiet ones make some noise.

“I’m going to shower,” I blurt out.