Page 41 of Indie
“Tell you what?”
“What do you want, little sparrow?”
He stood back, watching me. Never stepping towards me. Waiting for my response, for permission to continue. And I felt odd, unable to say the words he needed to hear. Because I’d never been asked like this. It had always been assumed that because I was in a relationship that this sort of thing was taken from me freely. And still he waited. Patiently. No pressure.
“I don’t know how to say it, Indie.”
“Say however you feel. In whichever way you need. I’m not touching you again until you tell me it’s ok. And if it’s not, then that’s fine too.”
I swallowed, buying time for those words to form, to have the confidence to tell him what I wanted. His eyes wandered over me, trying to stay away from my chest, where my nipples were standing out through my clothes, or between my legs where I could feel my pussy swollen and needy and probably leaking through my shorts.
“Indie. Kiss me again. And don’t stop. I’ll tell you if I need that. Make this feel natural.”
He nodded, understanding on his face, and stepped back towards me, rough fingers swiping across my shoulders, scratching my skin in the most delicious way, and I arched my back.
“Gonna get rid of this top, Spuggy.”
“Yes.”
A rush of cool air hit my skin, my nipples hardening further, and I leaned back on the table, watching his eyes now focus on my breasts, at the nipples pointed towards him. He smiled. It was gentle, not smug, like he was quietly rewarding himself. Then he closed the space, his hands groping up my back, his lips finding mine again, and this time he sucked my bottom lip into his mouth, and insane pressure echoed deep in my groin. A hand moved from my back, stroking over my skin, rough skin scratching against mine, a thousand burning and confused tingles dashing over my flesh. A mix of signals that my body wasn’t sure how to react to.
His fingers brushed over my bare breasts, gently feeling for my nipples and even the lightest touch sent me gasping, my head dropping back to expose my neck. He wasted no time, his lips and tongue filling that spot, sucking against the place where my pulse bounded uncontrolled. His fingers closed around my nipples, a tweak, and a pull against the hardened flesh, and I fell back onto my arms even further. Then his lips trailed from my neck, at first following the vein that throbbed with pulsing blood, teeth grazing over my collarbone, the contradiction of pain and pleasure, his mouth teasing me with a slow, tortuous descent towards my breasts.
His hands moved away, creating the space for his mouth, scooping around my back where he could pull me closer to him, supporting my weight as the gentle grating of stubble sent my eyes closing and my back arching. Soon he would have taken the ability to form words away. The ability for me to stop him or keep him going, a thick delirium descending on top of me.
His lips moved lower, tracing hot wet lines across my skin, and between his hot breath and the cool air, I felt like my flesh was on fire. I squirmed, pressure building between my legs, ready to explode, the need for some sort of release reaching a new high. I needed to scoot down the table to meet him. To feel the leather bulge pushing against me. Stubble scratched across my nipple, a sudden contradiction to the soft plucking of his lips and I whimpered, the sound invading the super-charged space echoing off the walls.
“Is that what you need, Spuggy?” he whispered, his lips poised above my nipple.
I arched my back, pushing myself towards him.
“Yes,” I hissed.
He hesitated a moment, but I couldn’t see what he was doing. My eyes tightly shut as I tried desperately to maintain control. And then suddenly his lips covered my nipple, gentle at first, testing the boundaries, waiting for me to tell him to stop. But I couldn’t have uttered those words even if I’d wanted to, and his mouth closed around me. The flick of his tongue on the end sent my pussy pulsing and my stomach clenching, and my head rolling backwards like it might come clean off my neck. His tongue flicked and licked, chasing a flurry of tingles and convulsions through my body. Then he sucked hard, dragging my nipple into his mouth, kneading my breast with his other hand, punishing my flesh and my mind all at once.
A hand trailed down my stomach, pushing the thin cotton vest lower and lower, a finger teasing across the waistband of my shorts. A promise of more. I tried to say yes, to make sure he didn’t stop, but all I heard were a garble of words, a mix of sounds. But he didn’t stop, gently tugging my shorts down my legs, and nudging them off with his knee. And now I lay on the kitchen table naked. Spread open to him like a sacrifice, just like he’d threatened me earlier that day.
He moved from my nipple, pulling his chin down my tummy, scraping my hot flesh with the scratch of his five o’clock shadow, his brown eyes watching me watch him. And then he spoke, his fingers swirling over my skin the entire time.
“Can I taste you, Spuggy?”
“You mean…?” I croaked.
“Let me taste this sweet pussy,” he whispered, hot breath tickling my skin, his fingers brushing over the fine hair at my entrance.
“Indie. I…no one’s ever gone down there… not with their mouth.”
I was suddenly uncertain.
“Let me guess. You’ve been expected to do it, though?”
I nodded, biting my lip. Indie’s fingers curled into my flesh, his nails scratching.
“Then let me show you how it should be done, little sparrow.”
I pressed my teeth harder into my lip, only nodding my head, suddenly nervous.
His eyes darkened, a flash of something feral, and for a moment I was hesitant. But then he tugged his eyes from mine, dropping his head and I felt his face against me, between my legs. And then his tongue. A tentative tease at first, a gentle swipe through my folds, and I tensed.