Page 78 of Born for Silk

I touch my forehead to hers again, our breath mingling together. “I did not take another Silk Girl last night. I have never taken a Silk Girl, Aster. You are the first.”

Too much sentimentality and possessive rage make the need to taste her insufferable. Time to introduce my Silk Girl to her clit.

She whimpers as I climb down her body and slide my head under her dress. I know she’s naked underneath; I saw her scurry to put her clothes on in front of me…

And in front of Cairo.

A territorial growl rumbles low in my guts as I eat at her pussy lips. They are neat and closed, barely touched. I part them with my tongue.

She bucks off the bed, long moans escaping her in an instant. Her knees rise, presenting more for me to enjoy, but not enough, so I throw her legs over my shoulders.

Her hands fist the sheets by her hips, and my tongue laps from her arsehole to her clit and back. Over and over.

Groaning, I indulge on her as I admit, “Licking your sweet pussy lips makes me so hard.”

It takes every fibre of my restraint not to literally chew on her skin, imprint my teeth into her folds. Want more.

I don’t just lick her pussy, I claim it, feeding my hands between the mattress and her little arse, holding each cheek completely, controlling her pelvis.

I lap up and down.

“This little bud is your clitoris,” I utter, using the tip of my tongue on the tiny hidden knot, flicking it until she is jerking and mewling like a speared animal.

“It’s for your pleasure.”

I kiss the tiny hood, then push it down and suck the pink, supple bead that rises from it.

Still sucking, I use the tip of my tongue to bear down on the bundle of nerves. They fire. I hear her breathing become jagged, hear her cries of pleasure hint at anguish. At angst. At needing something just on the brim.

Too intense, her sounds tell me.

I lessen the pressure and focus on dipping into her wet, tight hole. She gets wet easily.

My perfect, little Silk Girl with her wet pussy. That will help when I fuck her. The juices filling my mouth are made to help my massive cock stretch her open.

When she ripples on my tongue, I groan into her, knowing her inner walls are clenching around her narrow channel, begging for friction and pressure.

I will comply.

Soon.

I fuck the mattress.

Very, very soon.

Coming back to her clit, I find the perfect pace and suck with gentle authority, wanting something from inside—her nerves to explode.

Her thighs tighten around my face.

Her left leg jerks from my shoulder.

She comes on my tongue.

And like the rest of Aster, her orgasm is sweet with vulnerability and confusion but still curious. As though she is unsure its real, I’m real, or what might be happening to her inexperienced, young body.

I am what is happening to her.

I am what is claiming her.