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He looks down to my pussy, and the pure hunger in his gaze causes my sheath to flutter.

“Suck on you, Sweetness?” he rasps, finally dragging his attention from my lower lips. When we’re face-to-face, I nod with jerky movements.

He dips his head down and latches his lips onto my neck. I sigh when he pulls at the flesh.

“Suck you here?” he asks, and I make an inarticulate sound in my throat. “Hm, that’s good, I see.”

He moves down my chest, latching on one nipple and pinching the other between his index finger and thumb.

“What about here, Sweetness?” he draws the flesh deeper into his mouth, coaxing the nub to an even stiffer peak. “Is that good?”

My eyes slip closed.

“God, yes. Storm, that’s so….”

He moves lower and lower down my body, placing firm, reverent kisses on my flesh. When his mouth is right over the soft curls covering my pubic bone, he pauses and blows gently.

“Look at me, Sweetness,” he growls, and I lift my head to meet his gaze. My breath saws in and out of my chest, and if I don’t get control of myself, I’m going to start hyperventilating.

“I’m going to suck here, baby.” He takes the tip of his index finger and traces my seam, not dipping inside, although I desperately want him to.

“Please,” I whisper. In any other event, I’d be mortified to register a tear sliding down my face in the middle of foreplay, but Storm doesn’t treat me as if I’m overly emotional. Instead, he wipes my cheek with his fingertips and rewards my vulnerability with a hot, long suck to my clit.

“Storm!” I shout, my back lifting off the mattress as I cock my legs wider and lift my pussy toward his mouth. He returns my ferocity, moaning and sucking at me as if his sole goal in life is to get me off with his mouth latched to my cunt.

“Oh my—Storm! This is?—”

He slides a finger into my tight sheath.

“Come for me, Shae,” he whispers, keeping his lips on mine and testing my channel by pressing another finger into me. “I need you to come for me before I fuck you, baby.”

I let out a breathy shout at that, my thighs tensing around his ears. Reaching down, I clutch at the slightly longer coils at the top of his head as I flex my body, my sighs escalating.

Oh my god.

I release all over his mouth.

“Storm!”

He keeps sucking, maintaining the suction of his mouth as he presses up, coaxing out my pleasure as much as he can.

When I inhale sharply, he pulls back and places lingering kisses on my stomach, my breasts, and then my mouth.

“I want you.” The words shock me, but in the afterglow of the best orgasm given to me by another person, all I can be is honest.

I stare deep into his eyes, trying like hell to get him to see the truth in my words.

“Sweetness,” he says, his voice a rasp.

“Yes, Storm?” My voice trembles.

“Are you mine?”

He delivers the question with an intimate type of quiet in his voice. The tone acts as a counterpoint to his actions at the southern part of my body where he runs his erection up and down my weeping slit, coaxing out more moisture and driving me fucking crazy.

Am I his? How could I not be.

“Yes, I’m yours. I don’t think there’s ever a reality in which I wouldn’t be.”