Beguile

Chapter 81

I could taste his nervousness against my lips, a tang of anticipation mixed with desire.

His throat bobbed up and down with each shallow breath as my hand tightens around it, feeling the rapid pulse beneath my fingers.

His fingers found their way inside my underwear, the touch sending shivers down my spine as he cupped my bare ass, his touch both possessive and tender.

"Hmmm.." A low, trembling moan escaped his lips as I gently bit down on his lower lip, tasting the hint of his shaky breath mingling with mine.

I felt his gaze, intense and hungry, burning into me with a raw, primal desire, as he pulled me closer, his hands shamelessly exploring every curve of my body. Despite the urgency in his touch, his lips remained obedient, soft and gentle, like a silent plea for permission.

He held back, restraining himself with a restraint akin to a tightly wound spring, afraid that any sudden movement might break the delicate balance between us.

Yet, beneath his restraint, I could feel the desperation, the longing for more, as he surrendered to my every whim, his grip on me tightening as if to anchor himself to the moment.

I ran my tongue along his lips, a silent request for entry, and he acquiesced, parting them ever so slightly to grant me access. His surrender was palpable, a willing invitation as I delved into the warmth of his mouth.

A shudder ran through him as my tongue met his, a collision of desire and anticipation. I could feel the edge of his teeth grazing against my tongue. And the idea that he might chomp me down only added to my raging heartbeat.

He was hungry, voracious almost, his movements bordering on desperation as if he wanted to consume me whole. But amidst his fervor, he remained restrained, holding onto me as if I were his lifeline in a turbulent sea.

"Move your tongue, puppy," I whispered, my voice barely above a breath, and he obeyed with a gulp that seemed to swallow my every exhale.

With a shuddering breath, he extended his tongue out, a silent submission that sent a jolt of heat through me.

My breathing became shallow, my cheeks burning as I stared down at him. The scent of cinnamon sailed from his saliva and I longed to reach up and see if it tasted as good as it smelled.

In that moment, as I gazed down at him, I couldn't help but marvel at the sight before me. He was mine, completely and utterly, his panting breaths and flushed cheeks a testament to his surrender. And beneath the surface, I could sense the primal desire coursing through him, his arousal evident in the undeniable bulge straining against his pants, begging for release.

He's mine.

He's mine.

Without much of a thought, I found myself reaching up and putting my fingers on his tongue.

I gently traced the contours of it, feeling the warmth and texture beneath my fingertips. He let out a soft whimper, his eyes dark with desire, as if every touch, every movement sent a jolt of electricity through him.

His breath hitched as I explored, teasingly circling his taste buds, tracing the outline of his mouth. I could feel the tension in his body, the anticipation building with each delicate stroke. He slavers all over my fingers, both a mix of drool and tears running down between us making him look so vulnerable.

The urge to claim him completely surged through me, a possessive desire to make him mine in every way.

I fantasized about grasping his tongue, pulling it out so that only I could taste its sweetness, so that he would only ever offer it to me.