A Lesson In Pleasure 2

Chapter Three

Safira

My lips crushed into his, my hands tangling tightly in the hair at the nape of his neck, holding on to him like the only anchor in a world of pain and uncertainty.

We kissed our way through the hallway and to the door, his fingers digging into my ass as he swiped the card through the door to reveal a suite that looked like it belonged to a royalty.

He set me down slowly and cupped my face, his thumb tracing the line of my lower lip which was still sizzling from the kiss, while his other hand settled on my waist.

Then he stepped back just an inch, his eyes going dark with a hunger. “Strip for me, little one.” He commanded.

A soft smile curled my lips. For over a year, I had begged for Silas’s attention. I had curated my body like a museum exhibit no one wanted to visit. But now, under this man's hungry gaze, I didn't feel like a tutor or a dud. I felt like a woman who was being desired and longed for.

I pulled the coat off and tossed it away, the fabric hitting the floor with a silent thud.

I stood in front of him in nothing but the two-hundred-dollar red lace, the fabric hugging every curve I had been taught wasn’t enough to make me desired. But this gorgeous man’s eyes flashed, widening with a mix of amusement and disbelief, as if he couldn't believe hid luck, as if he were looking at a prize he intended to keep forever. The way his eyes swept over me, made me feel more seen than I had with Silas for years.

“Fuck!” I heard his groan.

Before I could move or even draw a breath to speak, he closed the gap between us in a few long strides. He scooped me up into his arms and backed me against the wall, my feet dangling as he pinned me there with the weight of his body.

He captured my lips again, in a fierce, demanding kiss that stole the air from my lungs. This wasn't the passionate kiss from the bar; this was a conquest. His tongue swooped over mine, his hands roaming over the lace, fingers pushing into the hole, touching my naked skin, tracing the edges of my bra and the dip of my waist as if he were memorizing my body by touch.

Then he pulled back, just an inch, his forehead resting against mine, his breath coming in ragged, hot bursts. “You have the most perfect body I have ever seen.” He rumbled. I’d have scoffed and rolled my eyes at such comment any other day, but at the moment, it felt like the one thing I wanted to hear. “A body that deserves to be traced and marked by a man's tongue, until you forget your own name.” He leaned down and pressed his wet lips to my thigh.

He took my lips in a kiss again, and this time, the polite Safira, the one who waited for permission, was gone.

My hands roamed over his chest, the heat of his skin searing my palms. I needed to feel him. All of him. Hell, I was burning and it seemed as though the only relief was in his body.

My hand began slid down, fumbling with his pants, until it found its way into it, my fingers brushing against the heavy pulsing heat of his cock. Goosebumps prickled all over my skin as I felt the smooth and wet skin against my finger, my pussy aching with unfiltered need. When my fingers wrapped around his length and he froze.

My heart plummeted, wondering if I’ve pushed too far, if I was being too much again.

But a soft smile spread across his face, he grabbed my wrist, pulling it out of his pants gently and stepped back. My breath hitched as he reached for the buttons of his shirt, taking his precious time in unbuttoning it, revealing the glossy skin of his chest.

Then, his hand went down to his pants, pulling the zipper. With his eyes fixed on mine, he pulled down his pants along with his shorts, revealing the thick length of his cock, the cap pink and glistening with the signs of precum.

I forgot how to breathe.

He… he was massive.

He stood before me completely naked and unashamed, a man in his most natural state. And heavens help me, I couldn’t keep my eyes off that thick length of his huge cock that stood tall and hard even as he stepped back into my space.

He still had that soft smile spread across his lips as he took my trembling hand in his, guiding my fingers back to the heavy, velvet-wrapped steel of his cock and all I could think of was doing to him everything I had rehearsed for Silas, every moment I had spent training my jaw to hold out for longer moments.

He leaned down, his lips ghosting over mine. “Do you know what to do, little one?” he asked.

I looked up at him, my heart slamming against my ribs. For the first time in my life, I wasn't afraid of failing. I wasn't worried about being boring. I wanted to taste him. I wanted to see if I could make this man crumble.

“Yes, I know what to do,” I whispered, my fingers curling around him, feeling the surge of his pulse beneath my palm.

“Then, get on your knees.”

His voice was a strong command that I obeyed before my mind could even process the request. My body was burning hot, that even the cold tiles felt warm as my knees hit the floor.

For a moment, I did nothing but stare at him, his length, the heavy vein running through it and the way it pulsed between my fingers. I bit down on my lips, my insides turning in anticipation, every part of me that I had held back taking over. I was stripping off the nerd Safira, taking on the Safira who decided to be touched, the Safira who wanted to be fucked.

I parted my lips, and began to lick around his length, my eyes fixed on him, watching as he shook at every roll of my tongue around him.

Tears spilled the back of my eyes as I finally took, filling my mouth completely. His hands fell on my shoulder, gripping them, firm but careful and head swung to the back, a low moan erupting from his chest. My entire body vibrated at the response, a raw fuel towards doing more for him.

I wanted to please him; I wanted to hear that low, hoarse rumble of approval again and again.

I moved my tongue through his length, my hands grabbing on his thighs for support as I take him in and out of my mouth, the months of rehearsals and jaw strengthening finally paying off.

“Fuck, little one.” He growled, his hands now tucking into my hair, gripping a handful, pushing himself in and out of my mouth.

And I kept my mouth open wide shamelessly, saliva dripping down my neck, my pussy throbbing with need.

I moved my tongue through him, his groans growing louder and deeper, until his hands suddenly tightened on my head and he let out a scattered breath.

“Stop. Little one, stop.”

I pulled back instantly, my heart sinking into my stomach. The old, familiar sting of rejection flaring up in my chest.

I looked up at him, my lips parted, my eyes searching his for the disappointment I was sure was coming. “Did I... did I do something wrong?” I whispered, my voice breaking. “Was I not good? I can…”

He didn't let me finish. He reached down, his hands hooking under my arms as he hauled me up from the floor. Looking into his eyes, he didn't look disappointed; he looked… wrecked. A smile spread across his face as he pulled me against him, his eyes dark with a heat that made my skin feel like it was on fire.

“Wrong?” He let out a low, breathy laugh against my forehead. “Little one, if I stayed inside that blissful and perfect mouth of yours for one more second, I would have spent myself right then and there. And I’m not nearly done with you yet.”

My stomach fluttered into tranquil blues at the approval.

“I have just one thing to say about what you just did to me.” He leaned even closer, whispering, “I’d love to keep you on your knees, wrapping your tongue around my length and taking me like that every damn day.”

My cheeks burned with a mix of shame and pride as a soft, triumphant smile crossed my lips.

Then, with agonizing slowness, he unclasped the hook of my red lace. He tucked a finger under the thin straps on both sides and pulled them down. The lace dropped to my waist, exposing my breasts to the cool air and his hot breath. My nipples were already hard, tingling and aching for the heat of his mouth.

“Fuck,” he rasped.

He pulled me flush against him, my bare breasts crushing against the hard, warm expanse of his naked chest. The friction was like a sweet torture, sending a fresh wave of wetness between my thighs. I could feel the soaked lace of my panties sticking to my sensitized skin, a physical reminder of how much he had already undone me.

With one hand anchored on the small of my back, his other found the waistband of my lace and swiped it down. It pooled at my feet, leaving me completely naked before him.

"Fuck," he growled again, his eyes dragging over every inch of my bare skin with an hunger I could feel. "You... you are a phenomenon, little one."

He then lifted me up and laid me back on the bed. The cool sheets felt like ice against my hot skin, a sharp contrast to the weight of him as he crawled between my knees, mounting me with a slow grace.

He started at the top, his mouth raining lingering, open-mouthed kisses along my collarbone and the curve of my neck, his beard grazing my skin and sending a thousand tiny sparks traveling down my spine, resting between my thighs.

When his hand moved to cup my breast, my back arched off the bed. He planted gentle lingering kissing around my nipple, my entire body vibrating with need. He kept doing that, as if taunting me.

When he finally drew my nipple into his mouth, the suction was so fierce it sent a lightning bolt of pure lust straight to the soaking wet heat in my pussy. His tongue lashed across the sensitive peak, rhythmic and punishing, while his other hand squeezed my other breast with a bruising possessiveness, his thumb grinding against the tip until I was thrashing beneath him.

"Please," I sobbed, the word breaking into a rough moan as he bit down gently, his teeth grazing me just enough to make my toes curl into the sheets.

He moved to the other breast, his mouth claiming me with a hunger that felt even more ravenous than before. He didn't just kiss it this time; he devoured it, his tongue swirling in heavy, wet circles before he drew the entire length of my nipple into the scorching, tantalizing heat of his mouth.

The double assault was too much. Between the crushing grip of his hand on one side, where he continuously rolled my nipple into rigid peaks, and the relentless suck on the other, my body felt like it was going to explode from the load of pleasure pulsing through my body.

"Please... oh god, please," I sobbed, my voice breaking into a pathetic plea.

I couldn't stay still, not with the heavy load of pleasure and hunger pulsing through my veins. I reached down, my fingers digging into the hard, bunched muscles of his shoulders, and pulled him closer. I didn't want gentleness; I wanted the weight of him to crush me into the mattress. I wrapped my legs around his waist, my ankles locking at his back, and I began to grind my hungry wet pussy against the rock hard length of his cock with a frantic, rhythmic desperation.

Hell, I wanted that inside of him, I wanted to not just feel his length pulsing against my thighs but inside of me. I wanted to be fucked by this man.

The friction of him against my pussy was an exquisite torture. Every time I bucked and rolled my hips, the heavy, pulsing thickness of his cock hit that perfect spot, sending bolts of white-hot lightning through my pussy. I was shamelessly seeking him, my body mimicking the dance we’d started at the bar, but this time there was no clothes between us.

"You're so desperate, aren't you?" he groaned against my skin, his teeth nibbling against my nipple in a way that made me shriek. "You're starving for this."

"Yes," I choked out, tears of pure, untainted need leaking from the corners of my eyes. "Fix it... please, just fix it."

I was a mess, grinding my hips against him, no longer trying to hide my hunger.

He let out a low, guttural growl that vibrated against my chest, his hands sliding down to grip my ass, lifting me even higher so I could feel every inch of his cock. And to taunt me more, he began to grind against me, teasing me, showing me what it would mean to be fucked my him.

My eyes rolled to the back of my head, my entire body trembling and aching for more. He kept doing that for a moment, letting me writhe and burn against him, his eyes dark with a terrifying, beautiful possessiveness.

Then, just as I thought I would go mad from the teasing grind of him, he broke away from my breasts. He didn't say a word as he slid down, his large body moving between my spread thighs, his hands pinning my knees wide until I was completely exposed to the cool air of the room.

He looked up at me once before he buried his face between my thighs.

The first touch of his tongue was a slick, hot invasion. I screamed—or tried to—but it came out as a strangled cry of pleasure as he buried his face in my aching folds.

His tongue flicked and swirling with a terrifying expertise, lapping at the overflow of my hunger as if he were starving and I was his only meal. It was like he had waited to do this to me all his life.

And I had become a mess, my hips bucking shamelessly against his mouth, my fingers clawing at the headboard as he used two fingers to stretch me open, exposing me to his lips. Every flick of his tongue against my folds made my muscles pulse and contract, a heavy throb that was quickly spiraling out of control.

"You’re so wet for me, little one," he murmured against me, the heat of his breath sending me over the edge. "So fucking ready."

He increased the pace, his mouth creating a vacuum that centered entirely on my clit. I was vibrating, my vision going white at the edges as the pressure built into a mountain of tension. I had never felt anything like that in my entire existence and it felt so… perfect, I never want him to stop.

God, I wanted to do this… over and over again.

Now, I could feel his cock, hard and thick, rubbing against my inner thigh with every move he made, a constant reminder of the man who was currently worshiping me.

Then, he used his thumb to pin my clit, circling it with a crushing pressure while his tongue continued to slide in and out me.

I writhed beneath him, my hands digging into his hair as my body struggled to hold in the ton of pleasure rushing through it. I could feel myself floating, my body felt as though it was no longer on the bed.

When his other hand came up to grab my breast again, I exploded.

A white-hot climax shattered through me, so intense that my back arched off the bed, my throat burning from the scream I couldn't hold back. My internal muscles clamped around nothing, pulsing in violent, waves as my juices flooded his mouth. I was shaking, my entire body convulsing as he stayed right there, sucking in every drop of my release, refusing to let me go until the very last drop.

I fell back into the pillows, gasping for air, my heart slamming against my ribcage. I was spent, ruined, and for the first time in my life, completely satisfied.

But by a man I didn’t know, and maybe a man I’ll never know.