Chapter 217: Cake By The Ocean (18+)
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The straightforwardness of his words caught me off guard, leaving me temporarily speechless, my mouth slightly open and my cheeks so red I thought I might actually catch fire.
He smirked at my reaction, his hands firmly pressing on the insides of my thighs, pushing them open again effortlessly and holding me exactly where he wanted me.
His thumbs moved in slow circles against my sensitive skin, a gentle contrast to the way he was keeping me pinned to the bed with nowhere to run to.
"C’mon, baby... let me taste you, hm?"
I remained frozen for what felt like an eternity, a mix of pride, embarrassment, and an overwhelming curiosity battling within me, until the fight finally ebbed away and I stopped trying to close my legs.
Oh my god...this man had zero freaking shame, not a single ounce of it in his whole beautiful body!
The soft sound of surrender that came out of me was embarrassingly close to a whimper.
Damien made a low, pleased noise and lowered his head again without another word.
He took his time, moving like he had all night, licking broad, slow strokes over me that made my toes curl against the wet sheets.
Then he switched to teasing flicks that had my hips twitching upward without my consent.
It felt so good, better than what I imagined getting your ass crack licked would feel...
Not that I had imagined it frequently...its–it was just passing thought, okay?!
The initial few passes felt almost exploratory...warm, wet, thorough, mapping the rim with the flat of his tongue before circling it with just the tip, pressing enough to awaken nerves I hadn’t even realized were there.
Occasionally, he’d seal his mouth against me and suck gently, or press his tongue more firmly until the pressure sent a shiver racing up my spine.
The wet, intimate sounds filled the quiet bedroom, a slick rhythm blending with the distant crash of waves outside, and the way he kept glancing up at me, clearly cataloging every twitch and muffled sound...made everything feel even more intense.
When his tongue finally pressed inside me for the first time, the sensation was so foreign and overwhelming that a breathless sound escaped me before I could stop it.
The heat and pressure, the intimate stretch of being filled by something so soft, left my mind scrambling for any sense of dignity.
"You’re shaking," he murmured against me, the words vibrating through my sensitive skin. "Does that good already, Sunshine?"
I tried to come up with a sharp response, but all that came out was a shaky breath as he continued his work, humming softly like he was enjoying himself way too much.
Like he was eating a five star, fancy ass gourmet meal instead of Oliver Reyes’ ass.
One of my hands had clenched the sheets so tightly my knuckles had turned white, while the other kept twitching towards my own aching cock, which was neglected and leaking steadily onto my stomach in slow, sticky pulses.
The sight of it...flushed and dark, the head shiny with precum, seemed almost indecent against what he was doing lower down.
Finally, when the need became too much, I reached down to stroke myself, desperate for any relief, but Damien immediately swatted my hand away...harsh enough to make a point but not hard enough to hurt.
"You come by my hands or tongue or not at all," he said, looking up at me with that infuriatingly calm smirk, even while his mouth remained shiny and wet. "Rules are rules, sunshine."
"That’s—fuck—completely unfair!" I retorted, my voice cracking at the edges. "You’re down there doing... that, and I can’t even—!"
"You can wait, baby."
He punctuated his words with another slow, thorough lick that made my thighs instinctively try to close around his head; he simply held them open wider and kept going, interspersing low, creative commentary between strokes that made me want to both kick him and beg at the same time.
His tongue was working deeper now, thrusting in shallow, rhythmic presses that left me clenching around nothing and everything at once, my muscles fluttering helplessly against the intrusion.
"Don’t get shy on me now. I can feel how much you like this. Every time I do this—" another pointed thrust of his tongue, another full-body twitch I couldn’t control "—you clench like you’re trying to keep me there."
He paused just long enough to circle the rim again, then added, almost casually,
"You’re so responsive it’s almost unfair. Makes me want to see how long I can keep you like this."
Pride managed to hang on longer than I thought it would, but the combination of his mouth, the denial, and the way he kept watching me as though I were the most entertaining thing he’d ever seen eventually broke me down.
My eyes felt wet by the time the words finally spilled out, my thighs trembling hard enough that he had to grip them tighter to keep me steady, my voice wrecked and smaller than I wanted it to be.
Heat pooled low and insistent; every nerve felt raw with sensation.
"P...please," I managed to say, the single word costing me more dignity than I cared to admit.
"Damien–I...please, let me touch myself. I need— I can’t—!"
He went completely still for a moment, staring up at me from between my legs like I had short-circuited something in his brain with my pleading.
The smugness shifted to something more intense, and before I knew it, he was surging up the bed to kiss me hard and messy.
The taste of myself on his tongue only made it feel filthier.
Salt and skin and the unmistakable intimacy of what he’d just done flooded my mouth; I made a helpless sound against his lips, and he smiled into the kiss.
"Since you asked so nicely," he murmured against me, the rough edge in his voice signaling he hadn’t expected me to break that quickly either.
"...I’ll give you anything you want."
He didn’t let me recover for long.
He was right back between my thighs in the next breath, doubling down with an intensity that made coherent thought nearly impossible.
This time his tongue thrust deeper, wetter, alternating between long, filthy licks and the kind of firm, rhythmic pressure that had my hips rolling helplessly against his face.
One hand stayed locked on my thigh while the other finally wrapped around my cock, delivering the firm, perfect strokes I had been craving, his thumb sweeping over the head with each upward pull to spread the precum that kept oozing there.
The combination of his tongue working me open and my own fist...no, his fist—stroking in desperate, uneven motions was almost too much.
I came hard across my own stomach with a broken moan, legs shaking around his head, every muscle tightening as the pleasure washed over me in waves, leaving me twitching and oversensitive and completely done in.
Thick streams painted my abs and chest; the aftershocks kept pulsing long after the peak had passed, leaving me gasping and half-laughing at how thoroughly dismantled I felt.
Damien stayed right where he was until the last of the aftershocks had me sagging back against the wet sheets, then pulled back just enough to wipe his mouth on the inside of my thigh with deliberate care.
When he looked up again, he seemed far too pleased with himself, those dark, satisfied eyes giving off the impression of a man who had gotten exactly what he wanted and was already plotting for next time.
A stray droplet of water still clung to his jaw; I watched it slide down and had the completely unhelpful thought that I wanted to lick it off.
I had never let anyone do that to me before, but I already knew I was going to let him do it again.