Chapter 394: The table 6

Nellie’s whole body jerked.

He ran his tongue slowly across the soft ring of muscle.

She let out a cry that she smothered into her sleeve a second too late.

He pressed his tongue against her and then into her, only a little, and she gasped his name into the cloth. Her hips began to shake.

He held them still and licked her again, slowly and thoroughly, from her asshole down to her dripping pussy and back again.

Her knees knocked together.

Wetness smeared across his chin and her inner thighs. Her asshole clenched and released under his tongue in small, helpless pulses.

"Lor, I— Lor, wait— I’m— I’m going to—"

He did not wait.

She went completely rigid.

Her back bowed.

Her mouth opened on a silent scream, and every muscle in her body locked tight.

For several long seconds she did not breathe at all. Her thighs spasmed.

The bench creaked under her toes. Her asshole fluttered hard against his tongue.

Then the breath came out of her in one long, shuddering sob, and she collapsed forward onto the table, trembling from head to foot.

Her fingers scrabbled against the wood.

A thin line of spit stretched from her open mouth to the table and broke.

Lor sat back on his heels, startled.

There had been nothing. No rush of wet on his chin, no cry that built and broke.

She had just locked up and gone off all at once, entirely dry. In two lives he had never known someone could finish from that alone.

His eyes went to her shaking back, then to the damp stockings, then to the open, trembling place in front of him.

Her asshole still pulsed in slow, aftershock clenches. A slow, stunned grin spread across his face.

"Nellie," he said. "Did you just—"

"I don’t know." She sounded dazed and faint. "I think so. It felt— It felt like— I can’t think."

Her knees gave out.

She slid sideways off the table and landed on the velvet bench with a soft thump, boneless and gasping.

One stocking half-slipped down her thigh. Her braid had come undone, and the plum ribbon lay on the floor.

Her cheeks were flushed to the tips of her ears, and her eyes were glassy and unfocused.

For a moment she just lay there, chest heaving, and Lor thought that was the end of it.

Then she rolled onto her stomach, pushed herself onto her knees with her cheek against the cushion, and reached back with both hands.

She took hold of her own ass cheeks and pulled them apart.

Everything was on display.

Her wet, flushed pussy below, glossy and clenching on nothing.

Above it, the small, open place he had just kissed, still shining with his mouth, the ring of muscle soft and slightly parted.

Her arms were shaking so badly that her fingers slipped on her own skin, and she dragged them back again, stubborn.

A fresh bead of wetness slid from her pussy and dripped onto the velvet.

"The Light," she said breathlessly, face turned toward him over her shoulder, "can have whatever it wants. Both. Either. Whichever." Her voice cracked. "Anything it likes."

Lor stared.

Every last bit of him went hot at once, and his grin widened until it hurt.

The open, shining place between her spread cheeks held his attention for another long second. Her asshole was still soft and slightly parted from his tongue, glistening.

Below it her pussy was swollen and wet, a fresh drop of slick sliding down to the velvet.

He dragged his eyes up to her face.

Her gray-green eyes were glassy. Her lips were parted.

"Nellie," he said, and his voice was rough. "That’s the best offer I’ve ever, I mean the light has ever had."

She made a small, hiccuping, happy noise.

Her fingers slipped on her own skin again and she dragged them back into place, stubborn, keeping herself open for him.

Her thighs trembled.

"I want to take you right now," he went on, because it was true but also he was greedy and he had something more in his mind.

"But I’m not going to go in dry, not for this. It would hurt you. I need to be wet first, properly, or I’ll tear you up, and I don’t want to do that."

She blinked at him, flushed and slow, and then understanding lit her face.

Color rose higher on her cheeks under the powder.

"Oh," she said. "Oh. I can help with that. Just sit back Lor."

Lor sat down on the edge of the velvet bench.

The cushion dipped under his weight.

Nellie turned around on her knees to face him, still trembling. Her stocking had slipped to the middle of her thigh.

She tucked her loose ash-brown hair behind her ear and slid off the bench onto the floor cushion in front of him.

Her eyes never left his face.

Then she reached up with both hands and began to undo the buttons of her blouse.

She did it slowly, one button at a time, and she stopped after the third.

The cotton fell open in a deep V.

Pink lace showed underneath, cut low, and between its edges the soft curves of her breasts pressed together.

The skin along the top of them was flushed.

She held his gaze while she did it, her cheeks burning and her chin lifted. It was a very brave thing for her to do, and he knew it.

"Is this all right?" she asked.

"You’re beautiful," he said, and his voice came out lower than he intended.

She smiled with her whole face, then looked down at his lap.

He undid the buckle for her, since her fingers were still unsteady.

She pushed his trousers and underwear down his hips, and his cock sprang free, thick and hard and flushed dark at the tip.

A clear bead gathered at the slit and trembled.

Nellie stared at it with wide, hungry eyes.

She licked her lips without noticing she did it. Her breath was warm against the head when she leaned in.

The smell of her arousal rose from between her thighs, sweet and sharp.

Then she took him in both hands, leaned down, and kissed the tip.