Again his thumbs circled my n*****s. Then his mouth was on them again, his tongue twirling on one n****e while his fingers teased the other. I arched off the bed, a broken cry escaping my lips as pleasure, sharp and sweet, arrowed straight to my core. He was building me up with an artist's patience, wringing sensations from me I never knew I could feel.
His kisses trailed down my stomach, a slow, torturous path until his head was between my thighs. He didn't just touch me; he worshipped me. His thumbs parted my folds, and I felt his hot breath on my most sensitive flesh a moment before his tongue found my clit. I screamed, my back arching as he laved and suckled, his tongue delving and circling until I was a writhing, sobbing mess, my hips bucking, riding his face smearing my wetness all
