Promise

Chapter 28: Good Things Come To Those Who Wait

Robyn

Without warning, his mouth met the sheer heat between my legs, and he pushed his tongue deep into me.

"Wider, baby. I want to taste what's mine."

With a degree of nonchalance that was almost terrifying, he threw one of my legs over his shoulder, allowing a reverent palm to skate down my thigh. If I wasn't mistaken, it was trembling.

"I've dreamed about this," he murmured, in what sounded like a prayer. "You have no idea."

"I have too," I confessed.

His eyes slowly came up to meet mine. "Yeah?"

I bit my lip and nodded.

"Have you slid your hands between these sweet thighs of yours and thought of me as you made yourself come?"

I should have known he was a talker. Under all those crisp suits and pressed shirts, there was a dirty talking man who was clever as the devil.

"Was it my name you screamed whenever you rode yourself to oblivion?"

"Christian."

"I want an answer, Ms. Hale. I don't take lightly to being disobeyed."

God. "Yes."

Alternating between sucking on my clit and thrusting his tongue inside me, he grabbed my thighs with both hands, and spread me further out for him to enjoy. He was enjoying this so much. As if he was doing this entirely for his pleasure, and mine was just a convenient side effect. It was such a heady feeling, seeing those calloused hands wrapped around my olive skin. I wanted to run my fingers through his hair, bringing him closer to where I wanted. But with the belt around my hands, all I could do was stare.

"I want you to ask me something," he murmured.

"I'm a little pre-occupied at the moment," I panted.

"So greedy," he chuckled, his tongue circling my clit with light, easy flicks that made me see stars.

I could hardly remember my name and he wanted to have a conversation. What was wrong with him? Just the way he looked at me brought me shamefully close to orgasm.

"Ask me what my future looks like, Ms. Hale."

"God, do I need to?"

"Do you want to come?" He asked casually.

"Yes," I gritted.

"Then you better ask me, baby."

Through pursed lips, I managed, "What does your future look like, Christian?"

"I'm so glad you asked," he said in a low voice, pushing two fingers back into me. When they reached that spot again, my back arched in pleasure. I was almost on the verge of tears, because I could taste release, and yet he wouldn't let me have it. He was denying me what I wanted, and he loved every single moment of it. With another blasé swipe of his tongue along the length of me, my legs trembled.

"Waking you up in the morning with my head between your legs. I see you lying on my kitchen counter with my head between your legs. I see you in my bed, shower, and splayed across my piano with my head between your legs."

"Christian..." I begged.

"Because I have no idea how the fuck I lived without this."

"Can you please stop talking?"

"Easy now," he purred. "Save that fire for my bed."

The sound that came from me was a mix between a moan and a sob.